


Everyone Has Something to Hide

by apple11



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Character Death, Dark Past, Depression, F/F, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, High School, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lesbian Character, M/M, Past Character Death, Teen Angst, Unrequited Crush, asthmatic dave?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple11/pseuds/apple11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU, Dave is secretly a straight-A student, ready to move on and go to college. After getting in trouble too many times, the principal tasks him with mentoring John, the transfer student. Both boys, affected by their insecurities and troubled pasts, find comfort in unexpected people. JohnxDave, DirkxJake, and more to come. Rated M for language & sexy stuff. Slightly OOC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 -- Suspension

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I don’t know if anyone writes Homestuck fanfiction anymore, but I needed a creative outlet and I’m kinda in love with these characters after what like 3 years of not even looking at homestuck? Okay so leave me a review if you read and lmk what you think.  
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie.*

**Dave**

“And now you can see that the graph has been flipped. Do you guys get that the negative sign causes the wave to be facing one way, while removing it causes it to flip?” The loud obnoxious voice pierced Dave’s ears. He sighed and looked at the board. He knew that the information was wrong. She was wrong about the exact thing that she was teaching. The negative graph that she had drawn was actually a positive graph. Dave didn’t raise his hand to correct her.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. If people knew that he was actually smart, it would ruin his whole reputation. Dave scribbled the correct graph onto his worksheet in his messy handwriting. The nosy popular girl sitting next to him - definitely just to flirt with him - peered over at his graph, and then raised her hand.

"Mrs. Green?" She said snottily, taking a glance at Dave before turning back to the teacher. "Dave did his graph wrong. I think you should take his paper and go over the lesson again." She grinned, happy with having brought attention to herself and Dave. Dave rolled his eyes under his shades. Mrs. Green waltzed over to their desk pair and took Dave's sheet, glancing over it quickly. She pursed her lips, and then turned back toward the front of the room, clacking her worn nude heels across the linoleum. She placed Dave's graph underneath the document camera. His sloppy work was projected onto the board, causing the white balance of the camera to shift until you could see his work. Dave did his work in pen, he didn't believe in redo's.

"I'd like to apologize to the class," Mrs. Green chirped, "Dave is actually right." She edited the answer key on her desk before looking over at Dave. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't really give a shit." Dave shrugged before realizing his mistake.

Mrs. Green sighed. "I'm sorry Dave, I'm going to have to send you down to the principal's office again. It's procedure. No swearing in class." He rolled his eyes again before gathering his things and waltzing out of the room without another word. He walked the familiar route to the office of his least favorite person, Principal Walken. He was a morbidly fat man who only really became principal because he enjoyed yelling at kids. Dave wouldn't be surprised if Walken were a pedophile or something. His biggest claim to fame was that he shared a last name with the prolific actor, Christopher Walken, but Dave was certain that his principal probably couldn't even name one of his numerous movies.

Dave had been to Walken's office a multitude of times in his 3 plus years at the school, but mostly they were for minor offenses, like swearing in class or having headphones on while he was supposed to be doing work. It wasn't like he wasn't doing the work, he was. Most of his teachers knew that, including Mrs. Green.

Principal Walken was especially harsh on Dave because of his situation. Walken assumed that since he had been under his brother's care for the past five years, it meant that there were no rules in their household and that Dave was a delinquent. That might have been true. Dave didn't really have a sense of what consequences were, but Dirk did a fairly good job bringing home the bacon and providing for Dave.

He pushed open the heavy doors to the principal's office without knocking and waltzed in, plopping down on one of the two seats in the room. Dave wanted to be in and out of there as quick as he could so he could spend the rest of the period walking around the hallways. He had finished all of his work anyways. The fat man spun his wheely chair around and glared at him, crossing his arms. They sat there for a few seconds before anyone spoke.

"Welcome back Strider. What are you in here for this time? Smoking weed on campus? Walking around shirtless? Telling your teacher to 'fuck off'?" Dave smirked. Okay, maybe he had done some things in the past. The principal leaned back in his chair, his weight causing it to creak and bend underneath him. Dave simply shrugged at his question. Walken's face turned from stern to angry. "Dave, for God's sake can you take those sunglasses off and make eye contact with me?"

"I have sensitive eyes. The light screws with them." Dave repeated the excuse he had used so many times before. Walken gave a frustrated grunt. Dave wasn't lying. His albinism made his eyes very sensitive to light, but that's not why he wore them. The lack of pigment in his eyes was so strong that his irises were a fierce, candy red, which was honestly grotesque and terrifying. He didn't wear the sunglasses as a child, he didn't dye his hair to a darker blonde either. It wasn't until he was teased and called 'demon', harassed by parents and children alike, that he started changing his appearance. If it weren't for the light dusting of freckles that covered his body, his skin would be snow white. Dave made sure to get enough sun.

He wished that the albinism had a more common effect on him. He had done a lot of googling and research about his condition. Most commonly, albino people had royal blue eyes that were beautiful and solid. Dave always longed for his eyes to be normal, even for an albino kid, and had even worn color contacts under his shades for a while. No matter what he did, the red peeked through in ways he didnt want it to. Albinism was like a curse that he had to live with, and he always wished that the curse weren't so visible.

Dave's mother wasn't albino. He didn't know his father, but he was certain that he wasn't much of a snow white either. Dave had always wondered why he and his brother had suffered the effects of the gene so strongly. Dirks skin and hair were as pale and translucent as his was, only Dirk's eyes were less of a piercing red and more of a passable orange.

"Your file says that this is your 15th offense this year." Principal Walken murmured, clicking his mouse with unnecessary force. "Have we discussed what happens when you reach lucky 15 at this school?" Dave shook his head. "Well, you have two options. Either you take three weeks of suspension, or choose option two."

"What's option two?" Dave pushed.

"You can mentor a new kid. Either a freshman or someone who transferred in." Walken paused for Dave to scoff. "You know, teach them how to not be you. Show them around the school, tell them where to sit at lunch. Give them advice. We think it will help our 'troubled students' to turn their anger and rebellion into something good." Dave instantly knew that three weeks suspension would be the right option for him. Even though it would go on his permanent record, he didn't think he'd be able to handle following a sad little freshman around the school. As if he were reading his thoughts, the principal added one more condition. "Also, the mentoring program goes on your permanent record as volunteering. No demerits." Dave cursed under his breath. He cared way too much about college. He didn't want the suspension on his record if he didnt have to have it there.

"I guess..." Dave trailed off. "I guess I'll take the mentoring program." It took all of his pride to say that. Dave wanted to come off like he didn't care so badly, but his true nature got the best of him. "I wonder what Dirk will say."

Principal Walken grinned triumphantly. "Don't worry, we'll call him." He turned to the phone on his desk, pressed a few buttons, and then brought the microphone end up to his mouth. "John Egbert to the principal's office please." _Oh God,_ Dave thought. What kind of name is John Egbert? There was a few minutes of silence while Walken typed aimlessly into his computer, probably updating Dave's file. Suddenly, there was a polite knock on the door and a boy entered.

There, Dave was met with eyes, the same blue eyes that he had always dreamt of having.


	2. Chapter 2 -- Chipper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading. I’ll probably be uploading fairly often, I try to write every day if I can, but if I don’t upload for a while please feel free to message me and I’ll get to it. I’m really grateful to all of you for reading this, thanks. :)  
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**Dave**

After approximately 30 seconds of staring, Dave realized that he had seen exactly what he believed to be the epitome of what beautiful eyes should look like. If Dave were a bolder person - who didn't care so desperately about his cool facade - he would have commented on them, and told the boy standing in front of him how absolutely mesmerizing they were. He had to stop himself, tear his gaze away, and casually thrust his hand out for an introduction.

Dave reminded himself that he had to act cool, and that this John, although new, could have an effect on his reputation. "I'm Dave." He quickly muttered, taking a second to look John over inconspicuously. Dave's eyes scanned up and down the boy's body, his glance hidden by the sunglasses that rested on his face. "I guess I'm your new mentor." The other boy, surprisingly, greeted him with a nervous, but ultimately chipper smile.

"I'm John! It's nice to meet you. I didn't know I'd have a mentor, but that's great! I keep getting lost in the school." John took his hand and shook it enthusiastically. Dave noted his strong grip, and chuckled to himself at John's comment and giving a non-committal nod.

John was tall, not as tall as Dave, but still stood at around his eye level. His alluring eyes were shrouded by a pair of black, thick rimmed glasses with thick lenses, revealing John's poor vision. He was thin, but Dave could tell that he wasn't gangly or scrawny in any way, especially by the way that the sleeves of his short sleeved tee tightened around his biceps. With his plain tee shirt, he was wearing a pair of tan cargo shorts that fit loosly around his waist and were held up with a belt, tightened to the tightest notch. His head was covered with a messy mop of thick black hair that almost reached the top of his glasses. His skin was clear and looked soft to the touch, almost like Dave imagined a woman's skin would be. Although John had a feminine quality to him, he had an air of antiquity, as if he had stepped out of a movie from the 1950's.

Dave hated to admit that he was gay. He knew exactly what the perception was of a gay man in this town, but alas, Dave was undeniably and indubitably homosexual. He tried with all of his might to keep from noticing guys in school, but John's classically handsome qualities did something to Dave. He had to advert his eyes to keep from ogling the blue-eyed boy. His normally subdued sexual attraction was suddenly set on fire, and Dave said a silent prayer to whatever god was out there that the boy standing before him was interested in men too.

The lazy principal, who hadn't gotten up from his desk, grumbled something about them having the period off so Dave could show John around the school properly. Dave was reminded that he'd be called back down to the office the next morning to report in. He faked a sigh, hopefully not displaying the giddiness that he felt about having to spend time with the gorgeous boy. He looked back toward John, who met his gaze and grinned. _Oh God,_ Dave thought, _he's so innocent_. They left the office and Dave paused, trying to decide how he should act around John.

The pause lasted for twenty seconds at most, but about a million thoughts passed through Dave's mind. He knew three things for sure. One, he couldn't flirt with John, and he especially couldn't try to seduce him. There is nothing more humiliating in current day society than a gay man being rejected because the other man was straight. He'd have to test the waters, and determine whether John was gay or not through his own mediocre gay-dar.

Two, Dave couldn't act excited to hang out with John. He had to be his same apathetic self, acting as if this job were a chore. He decided that he wouldn't be mean to John or intentionally try to make him feel bad, but he couldn't act too far off from his regular facade. That meant responding with a lot of 'whatever's and 'yeah sure's.

Finally, three, Dave had to find a way to see him outside of school.

* * *

 

**John**

John was lost. Again. He knew he was going to be late to class, and he knew that he was just suffering the consequences of being the new kid. It was just so different from the school that John was used to. Here there were numbers and letters on his schedule and there was know way he'd be able to tell building A from building B on his first day. John plopped down at a table in the middle of the quad, examining the map that he had been given. He wished that Dave had followed through with that tour that he was promised instead of asking to take the rest of the period off. Ever since his strange interaction with the boy in the office, John had felt uneasy. Dave had seemed to give him a weird look, as if he were a product that Dave was planning on buying. He didn't understand it, but it made him uncomfortable.

Suddenly, it must have been a miracle, because John was met with his savior. Dave was striding across the quad, headphones on, heading toward the large gates that kept kids in the school. Any uneasiness that John felt toward Dave dissappeared as he quickly realized that Dave was his only hope of getting to class in time.

"Dave!" He shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the noise. He wasn't quite sure if it actually worked, he had just seen it so many times in movies, but it was worth a try. "Dave!" He tried again, but the tall boy was still walking off, the loud music probably blocking the sound of John calling him. John got to his feet and slung his oversized backpack onto his shoulder, jumbling the contents of the bag as he sprinted towards Dave. "Dave!" He shouted again, reaching him and getting into his view so he stopped walking. The shaded boy looked shocked, and removed his headphones, pausing whatever he was listening to on the iPod in his front pocket.

"John?" He questioned. He looked upset. John was panting heavily, placing one hand on his knee as he tried to regain his breath.

"Dave," John breathed out one last time, "can you help me get to class?" Dave stuck both of his hands in his pockets and looked down at John.

"Yeah, yeah I guess." Dave grabbed the schedule from John's extended hand. "Dude, you were right by this. It's just off the quad." John looked up at him, furrowing his brow and frowning in confusion. Dave let out a heavy sigh. "Do you want me to walk you there?" He asked, as if he were offering it to a demanding child. John instantly felt bad, and as if he were a burden on Dave.

"No no no! Only if it's not too much trouble for you! I'm sure that I could probably get there myself, I'd just be much more comfortable with you there." John rushed his words, making sure that Dave knew how guilty he felt. John saw Dave's lip twitch.

"Yeah I'll take you there. Don't worry about it man." Dave's words reassured John, and the smile returned to his face. _Maybe Dave didn't hate me after all_ , he thought, looking at the tall, lanky boy next to him. They walked towards John's class in silence, Dave walking slightly ahead of John. When they reached the door, Dave gave John a small smile that made him feel better about the whole day. He entered the class, gave the teacher his schedule and sat down in the seat he was directed to.

John knew that in this class, Chemistry, he didn't have to pay attention as much because he had already taken it back in Seattle. John missed a lot of things about Seattle, and moving schools senior year was just horribly inconvenient. He thought about his friends back home and... No, he wouldn't think about her. Not today, at least. John wanted to be happy today, it was his first day of school and he wouldn't let the past creep up and ruin it. John flipped the chemistry book to whatever page was written on the board and zoned out.

He thought about his future here, and how much of an outsider he was. Senior year, everyone is already established. John knew that he wouldn't be able to insert himself into a friend group that was already so well constructed. He also thought about Seattle, and how the school here was all outside instead of being closed up like his old school needed to be in case of rain. He missed the city, but suburban California didn't seem so bad to him, and he had already met plenty of cool people, like Dave Strider.

If anything, the Egbert family was full of hope. John knew that it would be a difficult year for him, but he had hope that he'd find friends. He knew he was likable enough, and that people usually gravitated toward his cheerful disposition. He had hope that he could make a good impression on Dave, and he had hope that he'd make his father pro--

"Egbert? Are you even paying attention?" The teacher had her hands on her hips, giving him that _I know you're new but you need to get your act together_ look. John smiled and glanced at the board.

"The answer is sodium tetraborate decahydrate, ma'am. It's in borax." The teacher looked shocked. Hey, John was smart, and he definitely knew his chemistry well.


	3. Chapter 3 -- Embers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the wait! I was in Paris all of last week and just didn’t have much time to stop and write but I should be back at it now! Just for a trigger warning, there’s drug use (implied and blatant) in this chapter. Thanks!  
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**Dave**

Dave sighed heavily, watching the handsome blue-eyed boy waltz happily into the classroom. He daydreamed for a moment that he and John were dating, and that he had walked him to class not because he was lost, but because he wanted to kiss him goodbye and see him off. Dave stopped his thoughts quickly to avoid any _awkward_ situations.

_Oh God_ , Dave thought to himself, _I've become some fucking mushy gay._ After realizing that he was just standing outside of John's classroom, Dave quickly turned on his heel and started his walk home. He didn't have class this period.

As a way to stay out of the house and away from his brother more often, Dave entered himself in an accelerated program at the nearby community college, forging his brother's signature to allow him in. Dirk didn't know about it, and this was a great thing in Dave's eyes, predicting that if he did know, Dirk would give him constant shit for it. Dave had been taking classes at the community college ever since the summer of his freshman year. This gave him an advantage in school; he was really only taking classes he wanted to now and he had fulfilled all of the credits needed for graduation. He could have graduated last year, but he decided to continue just for the hell of it. This also gave him a lot of free periods. His cool-kid facade helped him out too; no one knew they were free periods, but they all thought he was just skipping class.

Principal Walken hated Dave's academic success, and believed that he was somehow cheating. He even asked Dave once if he had paid the teachers at the community college to pass him through the class. Surprisingly, Dave didn't even try to hide his academic ability at the college. All of his professors adored him and acknowledged his wit. There was something about high school that Dave couldn't quite get past. The feeling he felt when everyone around him acknowledged that he was cool, not only inflated his ego, but put a pressure on him to act differently. The social setting at the high school was much more poisonous. In college, no one cared. He could sit in class and have the most horrible vocabulary, swearing included, and the teacher wouldn't even blink at it. High school teachers just assumed that you were immature and had nothing important to say, but Dave actually felt like an equal to his professors. He loved it.

Dave wondered what his life would be like if he always acted how he did in college, but quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It was way too late for that. 

Dave reached the bush that he usually stored his skateboard in (they were illegal to have on school grounds) and yanked the shitty longboard out from its place. He put the board on the ground, hopped on, and started making his way closer and closer to the apartment complex that he and his brother called home. It was a large building, cramming a couple hundred people in like sardines. Dave knew the reputation that this area of town had, and he didn't like to think of the truth to it.

He kicked his board up into his hand and walked up the stairs, passing the homeless man that liked to hang out on the first floor balcony, and up toward the top level. He and his brother lived in apartment 405, on the fourth and final floor. They both joked around and called it the penthouse, despite being evidently shitty. Dave reached the door and sighed when he heard the loud music emanating from the door.

_You just have to go in, grab your work shirt, and go._

Dave pushed the door open and was immediately met with the smell of cigarette smoke. The room was filled with a hazy film of smoke, a mixture of tobacco and marijuana. Inside, Dirk and his drug-dealer-made-best-friend Roxy were sitting in the huge lazy boy chairs, facing the big CRT television. Dirk had a cigarette between his fingers; Roxy had a joint between hers. Dave rolled his eyes, determining that they were probably both stoned off their minds. He made a b-line for his bedroom to change for work.

"Broooo!" Dirk stopped him, and waved him over. Dave let out a heavy, lung-emptying sigh, and slouched over to where his brother sat. He plopped himself down on the futon that Dirk used as a bed at night, and turned toward his bro, waiting for him to continue. "When do you start work?" Dirk asked. Dave fidgeted with his feet, staring at his red converse.

"Four." Dave lied. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Wanna light up before work?" Roxy asked coyly, reaching the joint out towards him. Dave thought for a minute, trying to determine if it was worth the risk.

Dave didn't smoke cigarettes or do any of the other drugs that Dirk and Roxy did, but he did admittedly smoke pot from time to time. It wasn't like he hadn't done extensive research on it. Dave knew what it did and determined that it was fine for him. It even helped him out with asthma and shit, and definitely raised his cool factor. In social settings, when his friends brought it around he never turned it down, but he had never smoked with his brother before.

Dave took a quick glance at his brother, whose lips were upturned in a small smirk. His light orange eyes were dilated. Dirk was a bit of an anomaly. For being a frequent drug-user, he was usually fairly clean cut and well put together. His hair was usually sculpted up with gel and was the same natural albino white-blonde color, but he didn't dye it darker like Dave did. He also didn't wear shades at all. Not only were Dirk's eyes a lot less sensitive to light, but he had a lot less shame about the whole situation. He embraced his individuality and unique beauty. As cool and aloof as Dave was, this genuine self-acceptance and confidence that Dirk had made him appear just as cool if not more so. Dirk was quite a bit taller than the already 6'2" Dave, and his ensemble included both leather pants and leather jacket. Dave knew that Dirk was gay as hell, and that the leather outfit was just an ironic display of his homosexuality. Fitting 'conceptually gay' was almost a hobby to Dirk.

Dave's eyes panned to Roxy and her joint, smirking at the juxtaposition between her and his brother. Dirk was a clean cut drug user but Roxy was a mess. The effect of the heroin that she constantly used showed itself blatantly in her face and body. Her hair was long, but also sculpted and dried into a very specific vintage looking style. It was blonde, but her eyebrows were almost black. Her clothes hung off her skeletal frame, and her legs formed a thigh gap in a way that probably wasn't sought after. Her blue eyes were pink and bloodshot, and under them hung thick dark bags. Dave could smell the cheap vodka and weed mixture emanating from her pale, thin lips. She wore heavy makeup, and left obvious lipstick marks on everything that her lips had been on, including the joint in her hand.

Dave shrugged and took the joint, pulling a chrome lighter from his pocket. He held it between his teeth before flicking the lighter open and setting the tip of the paper on fire. He could see his brother eyeing him, hoping for some sort of reaction. Dave inhaled deeply, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs and burn his throat. He felt a wave of sleepy haziness come over him and his eyes began to water. The smoke left his mouth in round "O" shapes, revealing his experience. Dirk's expression held a mixture of pride and trepidation. Dave took one more drag, examining the little flecks of burning embers at the end of it. He stood, handing the joint to his brother, and moving toward his bedroom.

Dave was a very capable high; he could still fully function while enjoying weed's effects. He was glad he didn't drive though, so he'd never have to consider whether he was in his right mind enough to get behind the wheel. Dave thought about Dirk and Roxy, and how hollow their friendship was. They literally just sat around, watched TV, and did drugs. Dave didn't see that as a real friendship. When Dirk and Roxy did talk, it was usually just Roxy complaining about the last guy she had sex with.

Suddenly, a pair of blue eyes entered his mind. Dave knew he would never be able to have John over while Dirk was home. John seemed way too straight-edge to be thrown into such a sordid household. Dave spent a while lying on his bed, letting the high fill him and allowing his thoughts to drift to John, handsome John.

After an unknowable amount of time, Dave went to his closet, ignoring the lewd tent in his shorts. He pulled out his "Chick-Fil-A" shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, but he wasn't sure if he cared enough to pull himself together for work. He walked out into the living room again, to where Roxy and Dirk were both giggling at something on TV. Roxy had her leg thrown over Dirk in a very sexual manner, which Dirk seemed to ignore. She was still wearing her 5 inch heels that increased her tiny stature. Roxy had this complex where she thought of Dirk as both her 'gay best friend' and her soulmate, in constant hope that she could still convert him. Dave rolled his eyes under his shades.

The door creaked open louder than he hoped as Dave tried to exit the small apartment. Both of the 24-year-old's heads whipped towards him.

"Bye guys." Dave said, gripping his skateboard.

"Wait lil' man!" Dirk chirped. He jumped up from the couch, swaying slightly. "When will you be home?"

Dave shrugged. "I dunno man, probably like 9?" Dave watched Dirk glance at the refrigerator. Dave's eyes followed suit and he clenched his teeth.

"Okay, lil' dude, work hard." Dirk's eyes were nervous as he turned and walked back toward the couch.

A deep, guttural pain filled Dave as he shut the door behind him, knowing that he wouldn't return until the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4 -- Spoons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you so much for reading! It honestly means so much to me. By the way, if anyone wants to talk or anything, you can always send me a message.   
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**John**

John shivered, feeling the cool morning air nip at his skin. Even in California, winter mornings were chilly. He knew his nose was probably bright red, which was definitely embarrassing. John knew how much of a dork he was, but he tried to ignore it. His dad was in support of him being as dorky as he wanted, hoping that it'd discourage women to approach him for as long as possible. John's dad's biggest fear was the day that he'd bring home a girl, the day that John would move out and leave him forever. So he continued to encourage John to pursue interests like Magic the Gathering and video games. John knew that his dad encouraged things like that for a reason, but he didn't mind as long as he felt like his dad was interested in what he liked.

He continued his walk, sauntering around the park for as long as he could before the van arrived. Sometimes he liked to wake up around 4:00AM, just to clear his head and think. He used to do it even when it rained in Seattle. No matter how hard he tried, once he woke up, John couldn't get back to bed. John's dad thought this quality was rather odd but decided to encourage John to do something productive and useful with his time. Before they moved, John would pick up trash in the nearby park in the mornings. Now that they lived in California, John was surprised to see that all of the parks were fairly pristine. John, hoping to impress his father and do some good for society, signed up to bring blankets and snacks to the homeless. Even though his dad hadn't said anything about it, he knew that he was probably proud. Probably. His dad hated when John wasted any of his time. _"Life is too short to stop working_ ," his dad always said.

The population of homeless in the area was much larger than it was back home, but the amount of people helping out was much less. John sighed and shook his head; just thinking about the lack of people helping to solve the numerous problems in the world upset him.

He stopped walking as he watched the "Homeless Helpers" van pull up on the street off the side of the park. John made a b-line for the group of friendly older women who fawned over him. They all adored the fact that he cared about the homeless, and didn't mind his looks either. John frequently saw them fawning over him and staring when he flashed them his pearly white grin. He didn't mind the attention, and kind of appreciated the fact that they were so much older. Heck, most of them were moms. John saw it as recognition of his maturity and continued to let them boost his ego.

They handed him a bag full of blankets and another bag of what seemed to be Doritos. He shrugged and thanked them, earning a genuine "thanks for helping, john," back. The van drove off, leaving to help at one of the many other parks in the surrounding area.

John knew pretty much all of the homeless living in this park since he often chose this one to help at. It was close to his house, and since John was a horrible driver, it was easiest for him to continue to come here. There were two general clusters of areas, one being a circle of park benches that people liked to sleep on, and in a nice grove of trees that shaded from the hot sun during the day. John looked over to the trees, seeing that there were a lot more people hunched over there, and decided to start there. There were four men and one couple, who he distributed an extra set of food to once he realized that the woman was pregnant.

He wanted to invite them all to stay at his house, desperately empathizing with them, but he knew that he'd never be able to sustain them. John left them, giving them a sad smile. Most of them were there just by circumstance, having turned to drugs and been unable to afford their homes. One of them he knew to be a gay man who's family kicked them out. John didn't mind when people were gay, but he knew that his dad absolutely did. For some reason, he saw homosexuality to be unnatural. He thanked God that he was straight and that he'd never have to come out to his dad. John never wanted to question it, as if he could ignore it to retain the admiration he felt for his father.

John smiled at himself softly, feeling good about the deed he had done. He felt good helping out people who needed it, and he also felt guilty for having so much wealth and fortune. He knew that he and his dad had much more than they needed.

John started walking toward the circle of benches on the other side of the park, observing that there was only one person over there. It was dark, but he could see that they were lying down, their hands folded behind their head. It was a very casual position. As he got closer, he started to recognize that the person was wearing sunglasses. Suddenly, shock caused John to stop in his tracks. The sunglasses were all too familiar. He knew this boy. The boy was wearing a "Chick Fil A" shirt, black jeans, and red converse, sleep causing his lips to be parted slightly, revealing familiar white teeth.

"Dave?"

**Dave**

Dave's eyes flew open. Someone had said his name. He was trained to wake up at the sound of his name from nights of having to care for his brother. Most nights when Dirk came home too drunk or too... whatever, he turned into an absolute baby. He would be puking over the toilet, his hands gripped tightly onto Dave's.

It wasn't Dirk's voice that had uttered his name, though. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts and realize where he was. It was still dimly lit out, probably meaning it was way before he needed to wake up. Dave then remembered his last conversation with his brother and then realized that he was in the park, on his bench. He sat up, looking at the figure who had woken him. Although it was dark, he could see John's piercing blue eyes staring back down at him with a horribly confused look. It was always the first thing he saw when he looked at John, his eyes that is.

Dave was also confused to see John.

"Dave..." John dropped the bags he was holding and sat down on the bench next to Dave. "Wait, Dave, are you homeless?" Dave watched as the boy's innocent eyes scanned his face for any sort of emotion. Quickly, Dave thought to smile and lean back into the bench.

"Of course not, dude." Dave responded, slightly panicking under his cool facade. He never had to explain why he was sleeping on a park bench to someone at 5:00AM. "I'm just, uh... Avoiding my bro. Sometimes he gets lame and mad at me for skippin' classes so I just have to get the fuck out of there." He felt slightly bad for lying through his teeth to the boy who had captivated him so much, but he wasn't about to reveal anything about his personal life to John. Anything that could possibly ruin his chances of getting closer to John was a bad situation. John examined Dave as Dave examined John, the dark blue light that hung over the park clouding his vision through his already dark shades. He wanted to take the aviators off so badly; he never had to wear them while he was sleeping and at this point he had been wearing them for hours and now he was squinting to see through them in the dark. They had probably left uncomfortable imprints on the side of his face where the hard metal pressed against his pale skin.

"Why wouldn't you just sleep at a friend's house?" John asked, crossing his arms. Dave panicked, his eyes darting around quickly for an answer. Suddenly it came to him.

"Dude, this is my bench. See, right here, my name." Dave scooted over to point at his name, which had been messily carved into the bench. It was his full name, "DAVE STRIDER," carved by a much younger Dave at a much earlier date. This bench had been a bed to Dave for several years. It was rare that he couldn't sleep in his own bed, but when he had to leave he always came here. He couldn't really just drop in unexpectedly on one of his school friends without explanation, and he was never bothered by the cold so he didn't mind sleeping outside. It worked out fine for him, but John didn't seem happy with his answer.

"Dave, you can't be serious." John was frowning so much that it was almost a pout. He paused and then looked very carefully at Dave. Dave leaned back a little bit. "Do you wear your shades while you sleep?" Dave almost laughed.

"Not always." He smirked, standing up. "Well, I need to get ready to go bullshit my way through school. Better get home." Before John could respond, Dave was already walking away with his hands in his pockets. He didn't look back at John to avoid more questions. Once he reached the edge of the park, he reached into a familiar bush and pulled out his longboard. He had a thing for stashing things in bushes. He finally glanced back at John before deploying his board, who was staring back at him, looking very unsatisfied. Dave felt bad, but John couldn't find out about Dirk. At all. Ever. Nope.

Dave got back to the apartment fairly quickly to find a note on the door, scrawled messily. It was from Roxy. It read:

"sorry davey, couldn't clean up this time, dirks sleepig, good lukkk ;)"

She was definitely drunk or high or whatever when she wrote it. Dave sighed and opened the unlocked door. He took off his shoes and put down his board before he even examined the room. Then, he assessed the damage.

The refrigerator was still pushed away from the wall, the plastic bag that Dirk always had attached to the back now empty, its contents on the counter. The silverware drawer had been pulled out from the counter and sat on the floor, different sizes of spoons laying on the floor as if someone was looking at all of their options. The furniture in the open living room was all in the same places that they were left except they all looked slightly off and turned different ways like someone was moving things. The TV was on, playing some show with the volume turned very low. There was a burnt spoon sitting on the coffee table next to four empty needles. Dave cringed. His brother sat in one of the big lazy boy chairs, passed out. His hair was mussed and he was shirtless, his mouth wide open as he snored softly. The snoring was the only thing that reassured Dave that Dirk was still alive. Roxy had taken the liberty of drawing a large cartoon penis on Dirk's left cheek, pointing so it was ejaculating into his mouth. On his chest was "GAY" written in big black sharpie letters.

Dave took off his shades, setting them down on the table, and then got to his knees in front of his brother. He gently shook Dirk awake, feeling the cold sweat on his shoulders. Dirk's head rolled upright and his eyes opened slowly. His eyes looked like they were less bright of an orange color than usual and his sockets looked larger and darker. The freckles that usually dotted his face were less prominent and his skin looked gray. Tears almost reached Dave's eyes.

Dave helped his brother stand and led him to the bathroom, stripping him down and pushing him into the shower. Dirk sat down in the tub and let the water from the showerhead hit him in the face. Dave sighed at his brother's hopelessness and grabbed the shampoo. He lathered his brother's hair and helped him rinse it. He then soaped the top half of his body, examining the small cuts and scabs on his back and chest that weren't there yesterday. He scrubbed the words and pictures off of him, letting the white washcloth turn black with ink. Dirk's face was entirely blank as Dave cared for him. Dave didn't say a word. He turned off the water, reaching his hands down to help his brother up again.

As he stood, his entire body started shaking. Dave helped him towel off and led him back to the living room. He converted the couch into a bed, pulling the blankets out from underneath. Calmly, he made the bed, not getting angry at the fitted sheet or anything, just silently putting things together. Dirk stood behind him, his teeth chattering and his whole body shaking.

"I'm going to go get you something to wear," Dave said, looking at his brother huddled in his towel. He left the room and came back to Dirk sitting on the floor. He clenched his teeth and helped him stand back up. Dave pulled clothes onto him, taking the towel from him. Dirk finally got into his bed and slept, still shaking.

Dave hated these days. It used to be once every couple of months, but recently it had increased. It was like every time he used, he lost all of the functions of a normal human being. Dave knew that he couldn't be visibly mad at Dirk while he was in this state, Dirk would panic. He also knew that if he were mad now, he'd freak out and do something regrettable. Dave had to just continue to clean up his brother's mess silently.

Dave moved to the table, sweeping the rest of the white powder back into the plastic bag with a paper towel. He sealed it and picked up the black and brown tinted spoon. At the sink, he scrubbed the spoon clean, placing it back into the drawer with the rest of the spoons that had been scattered. He put the drawer where it belonged and then taped the heroin to its previous spot on the back of the refrigerator. By the time he had everything together, Dave only had fifteen minutes to get himself ready for the day. He quickly started a pot of coffee while he jumped in the shower.

While he was in the shower, he didn't let himself think about his collapsed brother, but instead his thoughts drifted to John. He knew that John wasn't going to leave their interaction alone. Somehow, he'd have to find a way to keep him satisfied with the loose explanation he gave him.

Dave walked toward the door, grabbing his board, a travel cup of coffee, and a joint before looking over at his brother. The anger that continued to build within him teased him. He knew that it was about time that it boiled over.


	5. Chapter 5 -- Jalopy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry that it's been a while since I've updated. I've been re-reading Homestuck, and I've actually really been enjoying it!
> 
> This chapter is much longer than all of the other one's I've written so far, and it's one of the more eventful ones. Let me know which character you want me to introduce next!
> 
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**Dave**

Dave spent his skateboard ride to school with his headphones on, blasting music. He had downed his coffee quickly, but was still struggling to feel energized. The lit joint that casually hung out of his mouth probably didn't help much to keep him awake.

Dave decided that he wasn't going to allow himself to think about Dirk at all today, and would instead focus on winning over the heart of John Egbert. _Gay_ , he thought, chuckling to himself. Dave was surprised how often his crush would enter his mind, the oceanic eyes consuming his thoughts. After seeing John for the first time, literally the day before, he found himself smiling to himself, thinking about how often John had gotten lost.

Dave reached his bush and delicately lowered his board among the branches, snuffing out the joint that had burned surprisingly evenly. He threw the remains of the makeshift filter into the bush as well. Forest fires weren't his concern today, even though he strongly doubted that his careless actions would cause the suburban bush to catch. Dave walked into his first class, music appreciation, 2 minutes late. As he walked into the class, he offered his teacher a peace sign before taking his seat in the back. The teacher sighed but then shrugged it off before continuing with another lesson about why the Beatles were the most influential band ever.

When Dave chose this class, he thought it would be fun and much more unbiased. He then found that the elective was taught by one of those music elitist pretentious assholes who believed that you could trace all of music back to the "greatest band ever". Dave loved music, and he wasn't going to discount all of the great things that the Beatles did for modern music, but he didn't think that they were the greatest band ever by any means. He constantly liked to voice this opinion to his teacher, which subsequently drove them mad.

In all honestly, Dave just wanted to mix music. He had taken a music class at the community college in his first session, three years ago and had discovered a burning passion for music mixing. Unfortunately, there was no opportunity for him to do that in high school. If he wanted to take music, he'd have to play an instrument or sing, neither being something he was willing to do. So music appreciation it was.

Time passed slower than usual as Dave slacked his way through school. It moved especially slowly as it got closer and closer to lunch, because Dave was anticipating getting to look at John again. He knew that he probably wouldn't sit with him at lunch, but he'd at least get to look at him.

Suddenly, Dave's thoughts were interrupted by a _ping_ from the loudspeaker.

"Dave Strider to the principal's office." The muffled voice said. _Shit_. Dave had totally forgotten to check in with Principal Walken in the morning like he had promised to do. He rolled his eyes, picked up his bag, and left the classroom. When he entered the Principal's office, he saw two people inside that he never thought would associate with each other at all.

In the two seats in the cramped room sat John and the elusive Rose Lalonde. Dave raised an eyebrow, probably far enough that it could be seen above his sunglasses. John had an obliviously innocent smile on his face and he sat with his hands folded in his lap. Rose sat with her legs crossed, slightly reclined, her eyes trained on Dave with a slight smirk.

"Dave, please." The principal said, motioning for Dave to enter the room. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lalonde, this shouldn't be too long."

"What are you in here for?" Dave questioned, grinning at Rose. She shifted in her seat and crossed her arms.

"Sometimes my opinions are a little too... Strong, and it can upset my classmates." She rolled her eyes in the direction of the fat principal. Dave had known Rose for a while now, she was Roxy's sister. At first meeting her, Dave was surprised that she was Roxy's sister. It wasn't that they didn't look alike, they were actually very similar in appearance, but their manner was almost opposite. While Roxy was wild and ill-mannered, Rose was calm and sophisticated. She was a junior and was just as short as her sister, also making up for her height with a pair of black heeled boots. She wore a simple black dress and a black headband framed her face. She was also very blonde but her hair was short and choppy, accenting her dimples and large eyes. She didn't coat her face in makeup like Roxy did, but instead wore only a flick of eyeliner and mascara. The most shockingly different thing about Rose, to Dave at least, was the silver cross that hung around her neck.

Dave could hardly imagine Roxy and Rose growing up in the same household. Dirk had told him a little bit about what had happened between them and Rose had also complained to him about it a few times. Apparently, the Lalonde's mother had kicked Roxy out after she dropped out of high school. Although growing up in a purely atheistic household, Rose had turned to religion in reaction to Roxy's dishonorable lifestyle. Rose loathed Roxy more than anything, and often made remarks about her sister being a sinner. Dirk said that they hadn't spoken in years. Rose definitely had those kind of heavily lidded judging eyes that examined everything you were doing as you did it.

"Alright... John." The principal said, finally looking up after tapping away at his computer. "Has Dave performed acceptably as a mentor to you?" Dave rolled his eyes under his shade and looked at John who was grinning.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed. Rose gave Dave a look. "Dave showed me around the school and even helped me to class yesterday!" His enthusiasm made Dave smile against his will, momentarily breaking his cool facade. He leaned against the wall.

"Is that so?" Walken gave Dave the same look that Rose had given him. John remained oblivious. Walken turned back toward his computer and typed some more things in before turning back to Dave. "Well Strider, I'm surprised," he remarked, "I will keep the mentoring program on your record. Just make sure you continue to help John, or we can turn this into a suspension. You boys are free to go." Dave gave an ironic thumbs up to the principal and backed out of the room, John following him.

"What class do you have?" Dave asked John once the door was closed.

"Um... English!" John responded with the same amount of enthusiasm that he had in the principals office.

"Okay, my class is in the same direction. I'll walk with you." Dave murmured. "Thanks for talkin' me up in there. That was like a five star review on yelp."

"Dude!" The word sounded strange coming from John's mouth. "You've totally helped me out, don't worry about it.

"Yeah, gnarly bro." Dave said, making fun of the classic Californian accent. He wasn't sure if John knew he was making fun of it or if he actually thought he talked that way. He waved John off once they reached his room and then turned and started walking the opposite direction toward where his class actually was.

School finished fairly quickly after that. It was strange to Dave how one minute, time dragged on as if he were walking through thick molasses, and then the next minute it flew by like nothing. He walked out of the doors of his last class, stepping out into the quad. Although it was winter, the sun shone on his face, causing a light sweat to gather on his upper lip. It was always so fucking hot. Fuck this global warming bullshit.

Dave started leaving the school again, walking toward the parking lot. He stopped after four steps and crinkled his nose at a loud mechanical screeching, coming from one of the cars parked in the student lot. He looked over and then saw an ancient caramel brown station wagon, jittering as the engine was trying to start. A small chuckle passed his lips as he watched it sputter and push exhaust out of the pipes hanging off the back.

Suddenly he realized that it was John sitting behind the wheel, cranking at the key. This piece of shit station wagon belonged to John. Dave almost cracked up, then and there. John must have seen him because he gave a small, helpless smile. Dave walked over to the station wagon and John turned the car off, opening the door and exiting. Dave's eyes quickly glanced over John, noticing his pale legs and the skin that showed on his arms around his wife-beater tank top. He looked like a dork, but a hopelessly handsome dork.

"Hey Dave." John said, grinning sheepishly.

"What's up dude?" Dave murmured, gesturing to the car. "Jalopy break down?" John nodded, frowning. He lifted his foot and kicked it into the tire frustratedly before leaning down to clutch the toes that he had probably just bruised.

"Oooh ow ow ow." He exclaimed. Dave internally cringed as his cheeks reddened against his will as he watched the adorable scene take place. Once John had calmed down, he glanced up at the smirking Dave. "Hey do you know anything about cars?"

Dave shook his head. "Nah man, that's my bro's territory. He's the car guy. But he's probably not around. Sorry." He cringed, realizing that he mentioned his god forsaken brother.

"Oh okay. I'll try to figure it out. I'll google on my phone!" He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked down intensely. Dave decided that he'd wait with him, not really knowing what made him decide this. John suddenly exclaimed that he knew what to do and asked Dave to help him. By this point most of the students had cleared out of the parking lot. There were a few stragglers left, but they were all on the other side of the wide expanse. John explained that sometimes old cars needed a starting push, and that they'd start moving once the wheels were turning. Basically, he was asking Dave to push the car in neutral while he steered it.

"Alright man," Dave sighed, "get up there and steer." Dave wouldn't do this just for anyone, and frankly he wasn't exactly sure why he would even resort to such physical labor for John. As soon as Dave heard the car click into neutral, he started pushing. As the car moved slowly, Dave heard John forcing the key to turn it and ignite the engine. Suddenly, the car sputtered to life and turn on, the engine firing and growling. Exhaust filled his face, the smell burning the inside of his nose with a sharp, choking pain. _Wow_ , he thought, _the kid was right_.

"Yeah!" John whooped, "We did it!" The window was rolled down and Dave watched as John threw his fist into the air out the window successfully as if he were in a movie. _Cheesy fuck_. Dave strolled over to the open window, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Thanks bro!" John awkwardly put his fist out for a bump.

"Yeah no problem." Despite his response, it was a problem. Dave's muscles burned from the weight of the car. He knew that he probably had a serious case of muscle atrophy seeing as he had been fairly inactive recently. He and his brother usually worked out together, sparring and fighting to keep in shape and on their best game. Obviously, that hadn't been happening recently.

"Hey, do you want a ride?" John offered, giving Dave a soft smile. Dave quickly ran through his options in his head, knowing that he probably didn't want John to know where he lived in case he was the type to show up unexpectedly. But, Dave fell victim to the eyes in front of him and gave John a small shrug before getting into the passenger seat. When he got in, Dave's hair brushed the roof of the station wagon, his tall stature squeezed into the confined space. Something about the car felt homey to him; maybe it was the aged leather seats and dirty carpets.

"Sick, you've got an aux." Dave said, grabbing the cord that came from the tape player. John must have bought the converter to make up for the fact that the car he was driving was ancient. Dave was pretty sure his brother had the same converter in his shitty old truck, allowing them to play music from their iPods instead of having to suffer through the radio. Dave instantly started to play music, something that he himself had mixed. John smiled, turned it up louder, and started to drive. Through the drive Dave laughed as John puttered his way around town. He directed him to his apartment, making sure to point out any of the hazards in the road for the oblivious boy. John was a surprisingly horrible driver and drove straight through three or four potholes on the way. He drove incredibly slow and Dave estimated that it took longer for John to drive to his house than for Dave to skateboard there. When they pulled into the apartment parking lot, Dave thanked John and hopped out, muttering something about how he had a lot of homework to make sure that John wouldn't ask to come in.

Dave took the stairs up to his apartment two at a time, his long legs allowing him to perform this feat with ease. The door to their apartment was slightly ajar but the screen door was closed, and he could hear music playing from inside as usual. The Strider boys love their beats.

Dave pushed the door open with a loud creak, walking in on his brother and Roxy sitting in the middle of the living room. They had pushed all of the furniture up against the walls and sat on the dirty carpet cross legged. A huge bong sat between the two of them as they faced each other with their eyes closed. Were they trying to meditate or something? Dave stood watching them confusedly for about 30 seconds before his eyes panned to the kitchen. Suddenly rage filled his entire being, his teeth clenching and his fists tightening until his fingers dug into his hands. The bag of heroin sat on the counter, totally refilled after last nights events.

"Roxy." Dave seethed. "Get the fuck out of here." Her body jerked at the mention of her name and her head swung towards him, giving him a sly smile.

"Daaaaaaaaavey!" She slurred, grinning.

"Roxy, get the fuck out of my apartment." Dave repeated. Her smile quickly turned into a frown as she realized that Dave was serious. "NOW." He rose his voice forcefully. Between his words, his teeth returned to a clenched state.

"Fine, I was gonna leave anyway." She stood, wavering slightly, and then crossed her arms, glaring venomously at Dave.

"Come on dude, what the fuck?" Dirk finally stepped in. "We're just chillin'. You don't get to make the calls around here. I'm technically your guardian still, lil' man." Dave cringed at the affectionate pet name. _Guardian my ass._

"I'm 18, so I'm an adult. And we need to talk." Dave made sure his voice didn't waver. He couldn't believe that Dirk had the nerve to pull this guardian bullshit after all the things Dave did to take care of him. The total disregard and lack of appreciation that Dirk had for him angered Dave and made his teeth clench even harder. His tongue got in the way and his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. Roxy gathered her things quickly, sensing Dave's severity and anger. His energy permeated the room, making even the music sound tinny and distant. Dirk had stood up at this point and had his name turned up at Dave. Roxy scuttled out the door, saying a quick, hushed 'bye Dirky' as she left.

"What the fuck dude, what do you need?" Dirk asked as soon as the door was shut.

"Are we just going to ignore this?" Dave's cool facade dropped as he flared his nostrils at his brother. "Again?" Dirk looked like he had been smacked across the face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His eyes were distant, his voice emotionless. His nostrils flared too, and Dave could see his jaw clench into place. This was not an easy thing for either of them to discuss, but Dave couldn't stand it any longer.

"Are you just going to sit quiet and not talk about all of the things that I've been doing for you? Don't you hate that I'm doing exactly what you used to do for mom?" Dave's voice got louder as his words progressed.

"Don't talk about mom." Dirk said firmly.

"What is that an order? You don't want me to talk about the dope whore who fucking made her children clean up after her mess?" Dave knew he took it a step too far as the words exited his mouth. He watched tears well in his brothers eyes. Dave remembered the sounds of the front door slamming, the creaking of the floorboards and the violent shouting from his childhood. He knew the exact words she would always use with her "guests". "A ball for an hour..." or "a gram for a quickie." He remembered the dark circles that always hung under her eyes and the sounds of her retching in the bathroom late at night. Back when he and Dirk would share a room, Dirk would try not to wake him as he got up to clean up after her, but Dave always woke up anyways. He doesn't remember a soft, loving mother. He remembers a bony, scabbed mother with dark, blank eyes. Dave hated her with all his might.

"I swear to god Dave, if you call her that one more time I'll fucking kill you. I'll kill you." Dirk stepped closer to Dave, his eyes searching his shades for a spot to look at. Dirks eyes pierced him with rage.

"Yeah, that'd do great. Then your whole family would be dead!"

"Dave, stop." Dirk's voice seemed to get gruffer and deeper.

"You act like you're the only one who suffered, Dirk. I fucking suffered too. What kind of person puts their kid through that shit? I was just a kid. I was twelve, Dirk! I was twelve when she died!" Dave reached his hand up to run it through his hair. He let his fingers get caught in it and pulled at his scalp, the slight pain calming his intense emotions.

"You didn't ever know her. You didn't know the good stuff." Dirk trailed off, looking down at his feet.

"There was no good stuff."

"Yes there was. We used to do things, like real moms and sons do. She took us to Disneyland, did you know that? You were a baby but I remember..." Dirk paused, his voice almost desperate sounding. The pause was filled with the music that was playing when Dave walked in, but it sounded distant to him. "You never had to watch her go from good to bad, she was always just bad to you."

"She ruined us, she ruined you Dirk." Dave took his shades off. "Look at me," he said, forcing his brother into eye contact, "do you want to end up like her?"

"I don't care, Dave!" Dirk shouted, tearing his eyes away. "Fuck you. You don't get to talk about her."

"I fucking bathe you, I clean the carpets up after you, I fucking dress you like a child," Dave shouted back, "and you're just letting this family get fucked over again. What am I going to do when you're dead in a crack-house someday, or dying the same way she did? I do exactly what you used to do for her and we both know that didn't work. I just-" Dave's breath hitched, "I - I'm not going to be able to deal with losing you like I did with her."

"Get out of here." Dirk said under his breathe, his tear-filled eyes not able to meet his younger brother's. Dave clutched his sunglasses until he felt the cold metal frames dig into his skin.

"Do you want to die of AIDS too, Dirk? Do you want your immune system to turn to fucking shit? Do you want to die like mom did?"

"Get the fuck out of here Dave." At his brother's words, tears started to fall from his eyes too.

"Who's going to take care of you bro?"

"GET OUT!" Dirk's hands went toward Dave, but he quickly dodged, running to the door. He fumbled with the lock as Dirk approached. Suddenly, his legs were out from underneath him. The next instant, Dirk's hands were around Dave's neck, halting his breath. "You've done enough. You've called my mother a whore, you've insulted me, and you don't get to do that. Make sure you know your place, shithead. Now get the fuck out of the apartment that I fucking pay for and find your own." He took his hands back and suddenly he was gone, having left the room before Dave even got a chance to catch his bearings. He gasped as his lungs filled with air, sweet, sweet air. The blood rush caused him to become dizzy, but he shook it off as he dashed to his room. He shoved whatever clothes that were in his reach into a duffle bag, making sure to get his inhaler too. And with that, he was gone, running to the only place he knew to go to.

The park.


	6. Chapter 6 -- Wallet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short quick chapter, but an important one!  
> Sorry for the delay! I know I promised a chapter sooner, but something came up! I'm super duper sorry.   
> On a side note, I don't really have any homestuck friends, so if you wanna talk and maybe be friends shoot me a message. <3

**Dave**

_Fuck._

Dave almost considered turning around, but it had been a long walk to the park. When John had given him a ride home, Dave had completely forgotten to pick up his skateboard from the bush that he usually stored it in. Since the bush was the opposite direction from the park, he decided that making the twenty minute walk was fine without his board. He had shoved earbuds in his ears, playing music way louder than what was probably considered safe.

Dave was definitely frazzled, but he didn't know why he didn't even consider that John would be at the park waiting for him. But, as sure as anything, as Dave passed through the tall bushes that edged the park, he saw the lanky brunette sitting on his bench. He was dressed in the same wear as earlier except for a blue sweatshirt that hung on his shoulders, fully unzipped. As Dave walked over, he realized that John's eyes were closed, his face turned up to the sun. He must have not heard Dave approach.

Dave took the opportunity to fully take in John's appearance, again letting his stomach tingle with a burning attraction. The sun hitting John's face illuminated his skin and glinted off of his glasses, and Dave wouldn't be surprised if he were more tanned than before. The thought of tanning passed through Dave's mind quickly as he silently wished that he weren't forever cursed to be pasty white. As he was examining the boy in front of him, the thought that didn't occur to him was why John was there.

Dave almost turned away, almost retreated from any sort of interaction. He knew that his face was tear-stained, and that his shades were doing a good job of hiding the puffiness around his eyes. His pocket hid the pack of cigarettes that he had stolen from his brother. Dave had never smoked cigarettes, but if there were any time that he would deem it acceptable, it would be now. He sighed and decided to just silently sit next to John and wait for his eyes open. After a full minute of staring at the boy, he realized that he was definitely sleeping.

Instead of waking him, Dave pulled the pack out of his pocket and skillfully removed a cigarette in the same way that he had seen his brother do, and much further back in time, the same way he had seen his mother do. Part of him loved that he was fulfilling some sort of Strider prophecy. They were scum, failures of society. Dave propped the cigarette between his lips and pulled out the chrome zippo again. He paused, staring at the lighter that he held, flipping it open and closed in his hands with a sharp metallic clapping noise that was so indicative of a lighter.

Part of him also hated it. He wanted to be better than Dirk and his mom, and wanted to be the Strider that could actually rationalize his actions. He wanted to be the smartest; he wanted to be the coolest. Dave knew that his obsession with his image came from his family, or at least wanting to be better than them. He dyed his hair, wore his shades, and even rode his skateboard to pull off a facade of effortless coolness. He had to constantly hold an image that screamed "my mom wasn't a heroin addict," and it was honestly hard for him to keep it together sometimes.

Dave finally lit the cigarette. He breathed in the smoke, inhaling too deeply and falling into a fit of coughs. It wasn't the same as weed. You didn't pull tobacco smoke that deeply into your lungs. Dave wished he knew that beforehand.

He sat there calmly, next to the boy who barely moved in his sleep. Dave let his thoughts collect as he held the cigarette between his lips, occasionally filling his mouth with the warm smoke. As tears began to fall down his cheeks again, he began to smoke quicker. He finished one cigarette, throwing away the butt angrily. And then he finished two. Then three. He finally understood the justification to this horrible habit. He just couldn't stop.

On his fifth cigarette, John began to stir. Dave quickly used his free hand to wipe the tears away from his face, panicking under the surface much more than he showed. He had never cried in public before. John sat up, obviously eyeing the cigarette. There was a long pause as John stretched and Dave took a few more drags. It was eventually John that broke the silence.

"Dave," he paused and waited for Dave to look at him, "are you sure you're not homeless?" Dave sighed, not answering. "You have a bag this time."

"Why are you here, John." He didn't add the questioning tone to his voice. Instead, he just sounded resigned and fully drained.

"I thought you might come back." John looked away, discomfort filling his eyes. "I don't know. Something just seemed... Fishy when I dropped you off. So I came here."

"What if I didn't show up here?" Dave made his voice fully emotionless again to keep any of his distress from peeking through in his voice. The last thing he wanted was a wobbly, wavering voice.

"I don't know... I'd go home. I'd finish my homework. I don't know. I just thought I'd try." A slight blush filled John's face. "You can stay with me, at my house. My dad isn't home. It'd be like a sleepover. I have room for yo--"

"I'm fine Egbert." Dave tried to protest, but his voice cracked on the word _just_. It must have not seemed convincing to John.

"Dave, I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here on this bench." John's blue eyes met Dave's covered ones. Dave sighed again. So much of him wanted to say no, and wanted to give John some sassy comeback. But he honestly felt like he needed to not be alone. Dave told himself that not wanting to be alone was okay, and that if that was what he needed, then he could justify going with John. He was so confused about his emotions at that point that he didn't know if he even thought about sleeping in the same house as the boy that he was so enchanted by.

"Okay." Dave resigned, physically receding so his shoulders were drawn in and his feet were crossed underneath him. John must have seen the discomfort in Dave's face because he put a hand down onto Dave's knee in a gesture of comfort. Dave silently unclenched his teeth. He couldn't believe he was acting like this, it was pathetic.

"Alrighty!" John stood up, grabbing Dave's bag from where it sat at his feet. Dave didn't protest, but put out his cigarette in the dirt and followed John back to his car. As they walked in silence, John carrying Dave's bag and Dave with his hands in his pockets, the sun receded down from the sky and its orange glow took its place in front of them. It almost felt like they were walking into the sunset together. Dave let his mind momentarily stray and fantasize. He hardly realized that they had reached John's car before he was nearly walking into it.

Dave was amazed at how considerate John was. He had carried his bag all the way to the car, and stayed silent during the car ride as Dave sat thinking intently. Dave only looked up from his hands in his lap as John pulled into the driveway of a white house.

The house wasn't spectacularly large, it was actually fairly small, but it was the most well-manicured house Dave had ever seen. The four car garage held three different models of Rolls Royce and John's shitty old car. It looked like a homeless man who was living out of his car also happened to live in the garage of a very rich man. John must have seen Dave gaping at the expensive cars because he scoffed.

"Oh yeah. Ignore those. Those are my dad's." He said, not giving any further explanation.

"All three?"

"Yeah he doesn't 'like to be restricted by having just one car'." John mimed air quotes. Dave furrowed his brow.

"Yeah me too. That's why I keep around all of my BMWs. And the horses, just in case I'm feeling old-fashioned." John snorted at Dave's joke and Dave grinned triumphantly. They both moved toward the door inside of the garage that led into the house. Dave was fully surprised by the inside of the house. For some reason he expected the house to be massive on the inside, like it was using some sort of magic to appear small on the outside but large on the inside. But it wasn't huge. It was a normal sized house.

The thing that set it apart was the furniture and appliances that were inside. The kitchen looked like it had just been redone; all of the appliances were new and state-of-the-art, and the counter tops were fashioned with expensive looking granite. The small living room off of the kitchen had one of the largest entertainment systems that Dave had ever seen. It seemed as if the Egbert family had every current and outdated gaming system ever released. The couches and chairs were all leather and plush looking. The carpets were white, so white that it looked like no one had ever walked on them.

"Uh, this is the kitchen." John said awkwardly. "This is pretty much it. Upstairs is just my room and my dad's room. Oh, and there’s a bathroom up there too in case you need it."

"Where's Papa Egbert?" Dave inquired.

"He's on a business trip." John rolled his eyes, revealing that this was a common behavior for Dadbert. Dave chuckled inwardly at his own internal monologue.

"Didn't you guys just move here?" Dave asked. John's only response was to just nod. _Hmm_. It seems as if Dadbert is pretty dead-beat.

"Wanna see my room?" A grin suddenly lit John's face as he eyed the staircase behind him.

"Oh god, please tell me there's a Rolls in there too." Dave joked. John let out a hearty laugh and ran up the staircase. Dave followed him, taking two stairs at a time like he usually did. Something about being at John's house with just the two of them there made Dave feel like a kid again. He momentarily forgot all about Dirk and everything going on at home. He forgot that his mom was dead and that Dirk was washing his pain away with drugs. All that was in his present consciousness was John and the childlike presence he brought with him.

Dave entered the open door that John had gone through. He was taken aback momentarily by the cheerful vibe that John's room gave off. The walls were covered in movie posters and photos of people that Dave didn't recognize. There was a double sized bed against one wall and on either side of it were tables with different colored lava lamps. Against the other wall here was a big wardrobe and a desk that held one of the most impressive PC gaming systems that Dave had ever seen.

As Dave was examining the room, he failed to realize that John was digging through his pockets panicked. His eyes were darting around the room, searching for something.

"What's wrong dude?" Dave asked. Whatever it was, it must be important.

"My wallet... I can't find it." He pulled his pockets fully inside out, allowing his phone and a handful of change to fall out onto the ground. Suddenly, John swung to face Dave. His hands landed on both of Dave's shoulders. Dave felt a blush creeping up his neck. "I _need_ to find my wallet, Dave."

"Okay man, I'll help you look." Dave murmured, trying to compose himself and keep from revealing his excitement at John's touch. They scoured the room, pulling everything out of his place and putting it back together. "Maybe you dropped it at the park?" Dave suggested.

"FUCK!" John shouted. He jumped up, leaving the room. Dave followed him to his car and started worrying about John. He was really worked up over losing his wallet. I mean like, it seemed like money wasn't an issue so whatever cash he had couldn't have been that much of a deficit. They rode in silence as John panicked and drove quicker than usual. When the pulled into the lot, John fumbled with the key and jumped out of the jalopy, not even locking it. _Man, no wonder he lost his wallet._

Dave followed him as he practically sprinted to the bench that they had sat at before. And there it was, sitting on the edge of the bench perfectly and unmoved. It was surprising that no one had taken it; the park was pretty notorious for its homeless population. John grabbed it and sat down, opening it up. He sat there, staring at the inside of his wallet, his face trained on it stilly. Dave sat down next to him gingerly, hoping to take a peek at what John was staring at so intently. Suddenly, tears began to fall from John's eyes. Now, it was Dave's turn to panic.

"Hey hey, what's wrong man? We found it. Don't worry." Dave's hands clenched into fists. He didn't know how to comfort someone who wasn't his drunken brother. John reluctantly let out a heavy sob. Dave's fingernails dug into his own skin. He wished he could just put his arm around John and comfort him, in fact, he told his body to do that. But instead, he sat still, looking at John with shrouded, panicked eyes.

"I almost lost her." John choked out. Dave raised an eyebrow, and then suddenly he saw it. There was a photograph in John's wallet, a picture of a girl. She was mocha-skinned and had short dark hair that hung in soft curls around her cheeks. She was slightly chubby, which Dave could see in her full cheeks. The picture was taken through a chain-link fence, and the focus was placed directly on the girl's face so that everything around her was blurred. The most striking thing about the photo, though, was the apparent sadness and despair that colored the girl's face. Her eyes hung low and were filled with blank apathy and surrender. John's thumb ran over the picture, stroking it with great care. Although she was very obviously at least half black, she looked surprisingly similar to John. They had the same nose and their lips parted in the exact same way.

"Who is she?" Dave didn't realize the words had exited his mouth until they were already out.

"Jane." John answered. There was a long pause. "She's my cousin." Dave didn't know how to respond to that. He continued to look at the picture until John snapped his wallet shut, his eyes now dry. He stood up and looked toward the sunset. "She's dead."


	7. Chapter 7 -- Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A Dirk chapter! This chapter is fairly short; it was originally going to be a lot longer, but I decided to split what I wrote into two chapters after it reached 4,000 words. I'll probably be posting the next chapter right away since I don't really have much of a regular posting schedule, but let me know what you think of Dirk so far. <3 I love and appreciate all of you guys. By the way!!! This story is also on fanfiction.net under the same title, just letting you know in case you prefer the format or want to pay me a visit over there. :)

**Dirk**

"I don't want to go to another god damned gay bar." Roxy slurred, her eyes already glassy. Dirk rested his cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the living room table, leaning back into the couch. He didn't respond to Roxy's complaint, which she took as an invitation to keep talking. "Hey, where's the kid tonight?"

"I kicked him out." Dirk clenched his teeth to avoid the emotion that threatened to creep through onto his face. Roxy clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. Roxy had showed back up about an hour after Dave had left, allowing Dirk enough time to calm down. She was probably confused about what had happened, and why she was the one to get kicked out first, but thankfully she didn't pry.

"Finally! Kid was 18? About time. I moved out when I was 17. Had to get away from little Rosey and mommy dearest." Roxy grinned, pushing her hair back. Her usually heavily styled hair fell naturally today in long blonde curls. Her makeup was smeared low down below her eyes, much more smudged than usual. She was getting worse.

"Don't you think it's about time you went home? You can actually try to connect with your family. I don't think they ever did anything but try to help you." Dirk said, crossing his legs. The ashtray sat between them, the lit cigarette leaving a trail of smoke that rose up to the ceiling like a thin gray line. Roxy frowned, and then rolled her eyes.

"Dirky they don't want to help me. My mom was so relieved when I left. She hated dealing with me. And have you seen Rose? She's become a total nut. Religious as fuck. Last time I saw her, she told me that my sins overwhelm every aspect of my conscious being. What does that even mean?" Roxy pushed herself up to a standing position, her frail legs shaking under the weight of her body.

"How about I drop you off at your apartment on my way?" Dirk offered, not responding to the last series of slurs that she let out. Roxy nodded sleepily and threw her arms around Dirk's neck. She clumsily hugged him on the couch, her nose pressed into his neck. She let out a heavy breath against him, and Dirk could feel her eyelashes touching lightly against his neck. In that moment, Dirk was glad that he wasn't yet intoxicated. Seeing how the drugs had pulled Roxy away from her family so intensely made Dirk think about the way Dave was reacting to everything he was going through. The sting of emotion that ran through his body felt nice.

Dirk was a strong believer in feeling things. As abstract as that sounds, he had perfect reasoning for everything. Dirk had always been a victim of strong emotion. When his mom passed, the agony that Dirk felt was close to unbearable. As he realized that he could use weed to quell the pain that he felt, he started his path of drug use. Over time, he realized that he saw his mother’s face every time he looked at Dave. The shape of his eyes and brow were the exact same, and sometimes Dave even fell into her slight southern lilt. When Dirk couldn't bear being around Dave any longer, he decided that he needed something stronger. Subsequently, he moved to cocaine. And then heroin.

Sitting there, holding Roxy lightly, Dirk realized that even that had failed. It had been years. Five years. Five years without the woman that held him when he cried and cared for him so dearly. Dave may have hated her, but Dirk could see past all of the issues she had. Dirk had also theorized that Dave resented her for his albinism. Even though he knew it wasn't her fault, Dirk knew that Dave felt as if she hadn't prepared him well enough. She didn't dye his hair, or buy him sunglasses like Dirk did.

Dirk wished that Dave could see the beauty to albinism. Yeah, Dirk's childhood had sucked too. He was made fun of plenty of times, maybe not to the extent that Dave had suffered, but he had heard his fair share of the malevolence of kids. He wished that he could show Dave confidence. He knew that if you had a certain level of confidence, people started seeing it as unique beauty.

Roxy had fallen asleep on Dirk by the time he decided to get up. Instead of waking her, he picked her up in his arms, bridal style. As he was carrying her out of the house and to his car, he left the door unlocked just in case Dave wanted to come back.

Dirk gently placed his drunk friend in the passenger seat of his truck, sighing at her weak body. She reminded him so much of his mother, which is probably why he kept her around. It wasn't like Dirk didn't like Roxy, but she wouldn't be his first choice otherwise. But every time he saw her frail body, Dirk felt like he had to take care of her, and make sure that she didn't fall to the same fate as his mother. He always kept clean needles around for her, just to avoid AIDS. Goddamned AIDS.

When Dirk arrived at Roxy's apartment, it was fairly quick before he was leaving again. She always tried to coerce him into her building and into her room. Whenever that did happen, they usually just held each other as they slept. But despite her complaints and persuasion, nothing was going to change Dirk's homosexuality or his plans for that night.

Dirk set his GPS for the gay bar in San Francisco that had just opened. Dirk needed to get out. He needed to get drunk and get laid. As he got farther and farther from the suburbs, the rolling hills passing him by, Dirk thought more and more about Dave. He felt guilty. He felt absolutely horrible and he knew that his brother resented him for all of the mistakes he had been making. Dirk was supposed to be a guardian to his brother, not the other way around.

He never thought that being a parental figure would be this difficult. It wasn't Dave that made it difficult though, it was the emotional load of knowing that someone else relied on you. If he didn't have Dave, Dirk would probably drink and smoke and inject himself to death. Just having Dave look at him with a face full of disgust helped Dirk stay alive. As sad as it was, his love for his brother was the only thing that kept him alive.

Dave didn't know that Dirk knew how well he was doing, or how much Dirk was proud of him. Dave was ridiculously smart, but he was an idiot for thinking that he could hide his accomplishments. Dirk got his report cards in his email, for god's sake. He even knew about the community college and how Dave could've graduated last year. Dirk was amazed that even in the five years that Dave had been under his custody; Dave had become more of a man than Dirk ever did. Dave was going places. Dave was going to be great. Dirk on the other hand, was forever stuck in a loop of internet businesses and odd jobs.

He didn't know why Dave never told him; maybe he was embarrassed to admit the amount of work that he put into school. Heck, maybe it was Dirk that pushed him that way. He had noticed the moment that Dave stopped emulating him, and it was probably the drugs in the end that made Dave want to react in the opposite way. In a way, he guessed what he was doing worked out for Dave, besides the horrible emotional scarring that he was probably suffering from. Poor kid had a horrible inferiority complex.

Dirk felt the tears threatening him again. As he pulled up to a stoplight, he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and shoved it in his mouth, taking a long drag. He held the smoke in his mouth until the window was rolled down. The smoke burned his eyes, keeping the tears in.

The monotonous female voice coming from the GPS let Dirk know that he was arriving soon. The bar was recognizable on the street; it was the only building erupting with music and flashing lights. The modern sign read "Q Bar." Dave parked down the street, taking a mental note of where his car was and putting his cigarette out. As he walked toward the Q Bar, he saw all of the classic gay bar getup, including half naked men draped by the door and groups of squealing girls who think it's exciting to hang out with the gays.

Dirk walked directly toward the bar and ordered three shots of tequila. The bartender, backlit by blue lights and covered in glitter, gave him a smirk and then poured his order. Dirk took all three shots in succession, not even cringing at the burn in his throat. It was sad, but the shots had hardly any effect on him.

"Woah, slow down tiger." A voice with a slight lilt said from beside him. Dirk's head whipped around. Standing next to him was a green eyed man covered in tattoos, holding -- wait, was that water? After giving him a full once over, Dirk's eyes returned back to the bright emerald ones that seemed to be doing the exact same thing to him. Neither of them said anything for a while, both of them acknowledging each other's presence but not doing anything but stare at one another.

Dirk couldn't help it; this man was maybe the most attractive person he had ever made eye contact with. He was thin and tall -- not taller than Dirk's ridiculous stature -- but still tall. The one thing that set his body apart from Dirk's was that he was ripped, not in a ridiculous way, but Dirk could see the ropes of muscle under his skin, tightening against his button down shirt. He was beautifully golden tan between the tattoos that covered both of his whole arms and the majority of his legs. His ears were pierced and he wore black framed glasses that contrasted against his bright eyes. His eyes were so bright that for a minute Dirk thought that maybe he was wearing color contacts, but then he realized that the other man was probably thinking the exact same thing about Dirk's unique orange eyes. On top of his head was a mop of black hair that was messy but in a way that didn't look too wild and complimented the shape of his face.

The man looked at Dirk with seductive eyes, but he was obviously sober which was honestly flattering. Dirk usually ended hooking up with drunken guys, who didn't really give any consideration to his looks. He always thought being willing was enough for them. But the green eyed man looked at him with such interest while he had a glass of water in his hand. Dirk didn't know what to think. He held up his finger for the man to wait, turned to the bartender, and then ordered three more shots. He downed them again quickly without a chaser, coughed, and then turned back to the man.

"Gosh, you've got quite a tolerance, haven't you?" The man remarked. "My name's Jake. I'd like to get to know you better."

The rest of the night was a blur.


	8. Chapter 8 -- Shades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just posted a chapter, but I had this one ready! Enjoy!   
> This is a John chapter and the end is pretty damn gay, so there u go. I don't know what else you expected from this fic. You ask for the gay, I give you the gay. 
> 
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**John**

Dave held the photo in his hands, delicately, as if it were about to crumble in his fingers. John saw his face, struck with wonder at the story that he had just confessed. John had told him about Jane, and about her death. Two years ago, John's cousin Jane had jumped off the roof of their school building and fell to her death. They used to be really close when they were kids, but it had been about four years since he had last spent time with her when she killed herself. In that four year gap, Jane gained quite a bit of weight and became horribly depressed from the pressure her parents put on her.

John's uncle was quite the harsh man. His dad never liked his brother, and often invited Jane and her mother over to avoid him. That was why John saw her so much in his childhood. But once they hit middle school, John's uncle pulled Jane out of school with John and sent her to private school. She returned to the same school as him when they entered high school, but by that point they had drifted apart. He saw her around, and she definitely seemed different than she had years before. It wasn't just puberty, too! She was more solemn, less of her cheery self. She looked stressed every time John saw her.

He never knew that she would do something so horrific. He described how he was there when she jumped, how he watched her fall and fall limp on the ground, blood pooling around her head. John had wished every day that he had put in more of an effort to stay close to her. When he told Dave this, Dave faced him and shook his head with more ferocity than John thought was possible. Dave's nostrils were flared in anger, and John wished that he could see into Dave’s eyes, to actually gauge what was going through his head. He knew that Dave had to also be confused about Jane's skin color; she was half black due to her mother's heritage, so he quickly explained that as well.

"John..." Dave finally spoke. Although he had only said his name, it relieved John that Dave finally had responded. He was worried that he had said too much too quickly into their friendship, or that Dave wouldn't want to come back with him. "I'm sorry. It's really hard to lose someone."

"It's okay. It was two years ago so I've had a while to think about it." John shrugged. Although he was still deep in mourning, he didn't want to cry in front of Dave and reveal how weak he was.

"Is this the only photo you have of her?" Dave asked.

"Yeah." John nodded. "I keep it around to remind me that people die and that's reality. Almost to like... Remind me that she's gone." There was a pause as Dave looked back down at the photo, running his long thin fingers across a face that he didn't know. "I stole it from her parents' house."

"God, John. I'm so sorry." Dave shook his head, looking back one more time at Jane before handing the picture back to John. John faked a smile. "It's... Hard... To lose someone."

"Yeah." The pauses suddenly became awkward and breathy.

"I uh... Lost my mom." Dave murmured. John frowned, looking at the tall boy next to him who suddenly seemed so fragile.

"I'm so sorry." John said quickly, his eyes threatening tears. He gulped to hold them back. Unlike Dave, John didn't have shades to hide his eyes.

"It's okay. We weren't close." Dave said, threading is fingers together and then pulling them apart, and repeating that motion over and over again. John watched him do that, his eyes following Dave's fingers' suddenly awkward movements. It was finally getting dark enough that it was hard to see. John couldn't imagine how little Dave could see.

"Can you see anything?" John asked, finally getting to his feet. Dave shrugged and stood as well, placing a cold hand on John's shoulder.

"You might have to lead me the right way." Dave chuckled.

"Or you could take your sunglasses off!"

"Nah man, not happening. They're cool. It's kind of my shtick." Dave followed John closely to the car. John rolled his eyes at Dave as he walked him over to the passenger seat.

"Thanks for coming back with me. For her." John blushed.

"Of course, man."

* * *

 

Back at John's house, John and Dave sat on the big bed in John's room watching a movie that John had picked. It was Ghost Rider, a favorite of his featuring one of his favorite actors. A movie about a motorcyclist that makes a deal with the devil? How could that not be fantastic? John knew that it wasn't exactly Dave's first choice, but he thought that if they watched it he might end up liking it. It didn't matter to John that he had seen it before; he often rotated through his collection of movies instead of watching new movies. John and Dave sat on the bed like this, watching the movie with their school books on their laps, finishing whatever homework they had to do.

Around thirty minutes into the move, John found himself glancing at Dave. The boy next to him had stopped writing and had stopped watching the movie. Dave was just staring off into space, tears running down his cheeks. John started panicking inwardly, clenching his teeth. He didn't know how to comfort someone, and he didn't even know what he would want someone to do if they were watching him cry. He quickly adverted his eyes in hopes that Dave didn't see him staring.

"Hey... Dave?" John said tentatively. Dave's head whipped toward him, and he quickly wiped the tears away with his hand. He sniffed and then the cool, composed look returned to his face. He offered John a small smile. "I uh, know we're not close yet but..." John continued, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" Dave said through tight lips.

"Whatever's making you upset!" John pulled his legs up toward him and sat cross-legged, pushing his books aside and facing Dave. Dave looked at him with the most shocked look, as if no one had ever talked to him about any of his problems. He looked away from John for a while, which didn't bug John because he knew that Dave was just contemplating heavily whether he wanted to talk about anything or not.

"Yeah." Dave finally said. "I think I do."

"Go for it!" John grinned, resting his chin on his hands and staring intently at Dave.

"Well uh, my brother kicked me out. I yelled at him." Dave paused for a second and then suddenly jumped into story. "Well, I did yell at him but that's only because he's being an idiot. After our mom died he started doing heroin, which is what she pretty much died from. Well, she died from AIDS but she got it from sharing needles, you know blood and shit? So it's fuckin' dumb that Dirk is doing fuckin' heroin just like mom and is all sick at night when he does it. And I have to take care of him even though he's supposed to be taking care of me." Dave let out a long breath. John was shocked. Dave's speech made every problem he had ever had seem trivial. He made direct eye contact with Dave, as much as he could through the dark shades.

"Do you want to keep going?" John asked, sensing that something was still bugging him. There was another long pause, and then Dave nodded.

"I'm worried about him tonight. He was angry, and the idiot does bad things when he's angry. He fuckin' does every drug under the planet and drinks a shit ton so what am I supposed to do? How can I help him from here?" Dave's jaw quivered slightly. "Dude, he's the last thing I have." There was another long pause as John looked at Dave, and Dave looked at John's feet.

"I think you're just going to have to trust the fact that he's okay. Sometimes it takes dealing with your own problems and stuff to realize you need to change. Maybe your brother just needs to take care of himself for a night and he'll see that he can't do heroin anymore because it's dumb!" John tried to make his advice sound hopeful and positive. Tears started streaming from underneath the shades again and John gasped. "No! I didn't mean for that to sound harsh at all, I'm so sorry!"

"John, you're right. You're so right." Dave started shaking his head. John was amazed by the lack of emotion in his voice, the same emotion that was so clear on his face. "Can I be honest?"

"Absolutely! Of course, Dave!" John put a hand on his friend's arm.

"First off, that was cheesy as fuck. Second, I don't think I've ever had someone give me advice before. Like, I've never gotten all deep and emotional with anyone. God dammit, I'm the cool kid. I bet you don't think I'm cool anymore." Dave let off a small laugh.

"No Dave! I think you're really cool!" John exclaimed. John thought that Dave was probably furrowing his brow, but he couldn't tell because his eyebrows totally disappeared behind his shades. "I think you're really strong, and that's pretty important!"

"John. You are the biggest cheeseball I have ever met. Holy shit." Dave sniffed again, revealing the slightest bit of insecurity underneath the words that he had just uttered.

"Dave, I'm going to hug you now." John warned, rising to his knees. He threw himself onto Dave, who froze for a second, and then clutched onto John with genuine gratitude. John smiled into the hug. He always loved hugging, which was unfortunate since most guys were too afraid to hug another guy. _Masculinity_ , John thought, _is so fragile_. Thank God Dave wasn't a fragile idiot.

"Okay," Dave sighed, "this is getting pathetic. Let's watch the movie." John smiled and let go of Dave, flopping back down to his spot on the other side of the queen sized bed.

Time with Dave passed very easily. He was the easiest person to hang out with that John had ever met, and they were so conversationally compatible that John found himself talking about pretty much everything. He didn't know that he and Dave would be sharing so much with each other so quickly, but he didn't feel nervous at all telling him all about how his Dad was hardly ever home and how his parents had divorced when he was five. He basically told Dave his life story, and Dave did the same thing to him. He seemed a little more reserved, as if he had never had a best bro before. John hadn't really either but there were people that he was close to. Dave didn't seem close to anyone.

John wanted to be close to Dave. He didn't know what it was about him, but John really just wanted to protect Dave. He knew that Dave himself was strong, and didn't need his protection, but John promised silently to be there for Dave through every trial. It was strange to John that they had practically just met each other, but were suddenly so comfortable sharing all of their pasts with each other.

They talked about insecurities quite a lot. John was a fairly secure person with himself, and when Dave admitted that his confidence was what he found most interesting about John, he was shocked. John never thought it was noble to be confident, but he had simply just accepted that he was the way he was and wasn't going to change that for anything. John had accepted that he was a dork, and that he wore glasses, and that his interests were far from cool. That was just the reality of his existence. He didn't really care what other people thought, but apparently Dave really did.

"Is that why you wear the sunglasses?" John asked, both of them having totally abandoned their homework.

"That's kind of a weird story, maybe I'll tell you some other time." Dave suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Dave, we've shared pretty much everything with each other tonight. What's different about this?" John pointed out, giving Dave an encouraging smile.

"I don't know, maybe later." Dave wasn't looking at John anymore, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears again so John decided not to push it.

At around 10:00 pm, they decided to start getting ready for bed, knowing that they'd both have to be up for school in the morning. They both changed into their pajamas, their backs facing each other. At least, John was facing the wall. He hoped that Dave was too. When he turned back around he saw Dave standing there in red boxers and a black tank top, grinning sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head.

"I uh, don't really sleep in pajama pants." Dave murmured. John suddenly felt overdressed and warm in his flannel pajama pants and long-sleeved t-shirt. He also took the second that he was looking directly at the Strider to examine him. Dave was way too fit and chiseled. It was almost ridiculous. John pushed the verging-on-very-gay thoughts out of his mind and smiled to cover whatever was going on in his head.

"That's fine!" He said chipperly, looking over at the bed that they would have to share. He paused before turning toward the door. "I'm going to brush my teeth and stuff now."

"Okay, I'll come too if that's cool." Dave replied. John didn't understand why it suddenly felt awkward. He had brushed his teeth every day of his life; it wasn't weird to be brushing his teeth with another guy in the room. But for some reason, his stomach tingled with nervous energy. He found himself looking at Dave as he brushed his teeth, feeling nervous about the domestic actions that they were performing. Toothpaste dripped down John's chin and he panicked, reaching for a towel in hopes that Dave didn't see the clumsy action. Unfortunately, Dave snorted in a laugh at John's fumbling, revealing that he had in fact witnessed the dorkiness. John spit the toothpaste out and inhaled a deep gust of air, feeling the cooling sensation that the mint left in his mouth. When he looked back at Dave, the other boy was sitting on the edge of the bathtub watching him with a nervous look.

"What's wrong?" John asked. Dave did the same nervous action that he had before, rubbing the back of his head.

"I have to wash my face." He responded.

"Oh! Go for it." John said, moving out of the way of the sink. Dave shook his head.

"I uh... I have to take my shades off. Can you leave the bathroom?" John was suddenly flooded with realization.

"Is it your eyes? Do you not want me to see your eyes?" John felt a little weird about talking to Dave as he sat on the edge of the tub. He wasn't used to talking down at Dave; Dave was much taller than him. It felt unnatural.

"Yeah. I just, don't really like them." John could see a slight blush creeping up Dave's cheeks.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I'm sure there's nothing wrong with them. We're you going to sleep with them on too?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Dave! That's ridiculous! I don't want you to be uncomfortable!" John was almost shouting in disbelief.

"It's okay, I'll be fine."

"Dave, I seriously won't care. I promise. You can absolutely trust me." John put a hand on Dave's shoulder in reassurance. He almost didn't notice the blush deepening on Dave's cheeks.

"I... I don't know. Only my mom and my bro have ever seen my eyes." Dave paused. "It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't want to scare you."

"I think I can take it Dave. You really don't have to wear them." John smiled, the hand on Dave's shoulder giving a soft squeeze.

"O...kay." Dave said, giving John a really nervous smile. Dave's long, thin fingers reached up to the corner of his sunglasses, pinching the frames and slowly pulling them down. He kept his eyes closed so John didn't see immediately, but John was quick to notice the light blonde eyelashes that he never got to see. Dave's eyelashes were so blonde that John could hardly make them out against his pale skin. Then Dave was opening his eyes and John was met with shock.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. He literally had no idea what was going to be underneath the shades and what abnormality someone could possibly have in their eyes. Framed by slight purple bags were eyes so red that they didn't look real. Dave's irises were the color of super Mario mushrooms. John wasn't sure why that was the first thought that came to his mind, but it was the reddest thing he could think of. His entire iris wasn't that red, but the majority of it was. The outside of his iris where John had a black band around his iris, Dave had a brick red band. Because of this, his eyes were soft but still striking.

After about fifteen seconds of John just staring at him, probably with his mouth wide open, Dave adverted his eyes nervously and looked down toward their feet. He was biting his lip too, an action that showed John that he was much nervous than normal. A giant smile erupted onto John's face.

"Dave." He said, gravely serious. "Your. Eyes. Are. SO. COOL." John exclaimed, pausing between every word to put heavy emphasis on his belief.

"Thanks." Dave said sheepishly, refusing to make eye contact with John. He pushed the shades back onto his face, making John frown.

"You can keep them off; I just want to know about them." John nodded encouragingly. "I'll try not to stare as best as I can, I just think they're really cool to look at."

"You're in the minority. Most people think they're kind of creepy. I've gotten 'demon' a lot."

"Why are they red?" John asked, not able to hold the question in any longer.

"I'm albino. Pretty severely albino. My bro is too, if you saw him you'd get it since he doesn't try to hide it." Dave bit his lip again. "I dye my hair darker to look more normal. My skin would look really weird and pasty if we didn't live in California. Luckily here I get enough sun so I have like a shit ton of freckles."

"Can you take them off again?" John asked, standing still in amazement. "I'm sorry, I just really like them." John blushed.

"Yeah." Dave said, pulling them off. "I'm just a little sensitive to light."

"Oh!" John exclaimed, pushing the dimmer down on the bathroom lights. He sat there for another thirty seconds as he looked directly into Dave's eyes. He expected Dave to start squirming with discomfort after some point, but he sat still, staring back into John's eyes.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"This is pretty gay." Dave murmured. John burst out laughing, grinning at his friend.

"Sorry man, you just have crazy cool eyes!" John moved away from the sink again. "You can wash your face in peace, I'll let you alone." He stepped out of the room, looking back at Dave one last time.

They met back in John's room. When Dave got back, John was already in bed, scooched all the way to the left side of the bed so there was enough room for Dave. John noticed that Dave wasn't wearing his shades and grinned. Dave climbed into the bed, and flopped down against the pillow on his side so he was facing John. His eyes were almost instantly closed.

"Night, John." He murmured.

"Night, Dave!" John responded, tucking himself in as well.

"Hey, man?" Dave said. John made a noise to let the other boy know that he was listening. "Thanks for making me do that. I'm glad I did."

"Don't sweat it!" With those words, John drifted off into a heavy sleep.

The heavy sleep didn't last for very long. John was awakened by a loud, bed shaking snore erupting from the boy next to him. As he opened his eyes, he realized that the source of the snore was a lot closer than he had expected. In his sleep, Dave had moved close to John, so their bodies were fully touching. Dave's long arm was thrown across John's chest, his top leg tucked between John's so they were intertwined at the knee.

A heavy warm blush creeped up John's face. He swore that the blush covered his entire body. Seconds later, he realized it had. He looked down to see a very solid, very hard peak in the sheets. John cursed himself, and his dick for making the most inappropriate appearance that it ever had made. Quickly he tried to pull his shirt down to cover his raging boner, but then realized that if he shifted at all, Dave would wake and see whatever gay shit was happening. Another snore roared in John's ear. Dave's face was tucked into John's shoulder, the breath from his nose tickling his neck.

John clenched his teeth, pressing his boner down, trying to think of anything but the warm body clutching at his side. He didn't want to think of the leg between his legs, or the close distance between Dave's lips and his neck.

 _Fuck_ , John thought, _this is really gay._ His thoughts dipped into that mindset, thinking for a minute what he would do if he actually were gay. Of course, he wasn't, but this boner thing was really confusing. The most confusing part of it was that it seemed to grow the more he thought of Dave.

He tried to convince himself that it was just hormones and that his body was just reacting to a warm body being pressed so closely against him. Part of him knew that wasn't true. It was the same part of him that knew that John had a crush on the man who was becoming his best friend. It was the same part of him that was -- no matter how much he protested -- pretty damned gay.


	9. Chapter 9 -- Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading.   
> Anyways, I just wanted to mention that anything I wrote in this chapter about an asthma attack is from my own experience, and I know that asthma attacks are different for everyone, so yeah.   
> Y'all asked for the gay so I give you the gay. 
> 
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**Dirk**

Dirk woke up with one of the worst hangovers he had ever had. His eyes, refusing to open, were covered with a thick layer of crust that had accumulated over the night. He reached his hands up, balling them into fists and rubbing away the crust, allowing his eyes to open. As his eyes opened, the futon bed moved and creaked. _Holy shit. There's a man in my bed._ Dirk stared at the figured next to him, who was slowly rising and turning toward him. It was Jake, the ridiculously handsome man he had met last night.

Suddenly the sunlight made itself visible from behind whatever clouds it was behind. Dirk winced. He was usually sensitive to the sun, but the horrible hangover wasn't helping at all. Dirk covered his eyes and let out a low groan, his head throbbing.

"Morning, handsome." Jake said, adjusting his position and causing the bed to shake again.

"So, wanna give me the play by play of what happened last night, since I don't remember a thing more than your name?" Dirk said, staying with his eyes closed as he went through every possible thing that could have happened. His mind always ran through the worst possible options.

"Sure." Dirk could almost hear the smirk on Jake's lips. "We spent most of the night at the bar. You took 13 shots -- which is bloody impressive -- before I stopped you and then you asked me to come home with you. I followed you to your car, and you were absolutely blue in the puss so I made you sit in the passenger seat. I found your address in your GPS, and I drove you home. We chewed the old fat for a bit and then you tried to persuade me to have sexual relations with you! I knew that you were much too pissed to even remember it the next day, so I made you go to bed. I tucked you in but then you asked me to stay with you, and here we are!" Dirk was totally stunned, peeking out of the pillow that he had rested over his eyes. Not only did he not understand half of the weird British slang that Jake used, but he was also totally surprised that they hadn't fucked. Not even a little bit by what Jake had explained.

Last night Dirk hadn't noticed Jake's adorable British lilt, or if he had he was much too drunk to remember. He must have noticed Jake's smile that framed his flawless teeth and the ear piercings that edged up his happy composure. Dirk's glance ran down to Jake's arms, covered in tattoos. He had never been with a man that was so tatted, and he loved it. The best part about Jake's tattoos was the fact that they were all really well done. His arms were totally covered with art pieces with beautiful shading and intricate line work. The button down that he had been wearing before, rolled up to his forearms, now was discarded on the floor across the room.

"So we didn't fuck?" Dirk finally asked, narrowing his eyes at the shirtless chiseled man next to him.

"We didn't even kiss." No one had ever even considered Dirk's sobriety as a deterrent from having sex with him. Something in him thought it was really lame, but something in him also loved it. He could tell that Jake actually cared whether or not Dirk remembered.

"Did you not want to?" Dirk gave him a sly smile, which he hoped came across as seductive. Jake scooted closer to Dirk, his head resting on his hand as he lied on his side. It was almost hilarious how he positioned himself in the classically seductive model stretch. Jake's charmingly dorky grin spread across his face as he grinned at Dirk. Dirk decided to mimic his position.

 "Of course I did. But I am a gent worth my salt, and I wasn't about to sleep with a man who wouldn't remember a wink of it." Jake grinned, reaching his hand up to push the hair out of Dirk's eyes that had fallen out of its usually gelled and styled design. Dirk hated people seeing him with his hair down, but something about the way that Jake's eyes examined his face made all of his worries melt away.

"You did, did ya?" Dirk said playfully. Jake was about to respond, but before he could Dirk grabbed him by the chin, silencing him completely. Dirk watched Jake's eyes widen as he slowly pulled their lips together to meet. He could almost hear Jake's quick heartbeat. As soon as their lips met, Dirk melted into his warmth. His hangover seemed to disappear. Jake's lips were surprisingly soft and fuller than he expected. Although they were tense at first, they slowly formed themselves around his; whatever anxiety he had must have melted away at Dirk's touch. They sat there for a few moments in that closed mouth kiss, enjoying the sensation of their sensitive lips pressing together.

Jake was the first one to move, pulling away and looking at Dirk with a wild smile. Dirk got in enough time shoot Jake a quick smirk before Jake latched back onto his lips, his hands flying up to Dirk's face to cradle it. His lips moved feverishly and hungrily against Dirk's, and he was the first to open his mouth to beckon Dirk's tongue in. Dirk complied happily, tasting the sweetness of Jake's lips as he skillfully and sensually kissed him. Jake's nose was slightly bigger than Dirk's, and it pressed softly into the other man's face. As they kissed, Jake pushed Dirk back until he was straddling him, his arms wrapped around his neck.

Nothing was quick about what they were doing. Every movement was calculated and smooth, and as they moved to grind against each other, they fit into a perfect rhythm together. Electricity filled Dirk's body. Kisses became more feverish, and touches felt more desperate. As Dirk touched the man on top of him, he couldn't seem to get enough of him. His fingers slid across Jake's bare chest, his touches hungry with lust. Suddenly, Jake pulled away, sitting up with his lips parted as he caught his breath.

"What's wrong?" Dirk asked, his hands resting on Jake's hips. Jake offered him a soft, breathless smile.

"Holy fucking mackerel, Strider." He puffed. "As incredible as this has been, I think I'd like to get to know you better before we go any further." Dirk let out a low groan, lifting his lips to grind them together again. Jake's breathing hitched and he steadied himself with a hand on Dirk's chest. "Easy now, boy." Jake warned.

"I haven't really done a relationship in a while." Dirk said.

"How long?"

Dirk didn't even have to calculate. "Five years." He responded. After his mother died, he gave up serious relationships.

"Why?" Jake inquired. When Dirk gave him a look, he smiled. "It's to get to know each other better."

"I have a kid to take care of. Well, not my kid. My kid brother. I'm his guardian." Dirk knew he was rambling at that point. He put his hand behind his head, rubbing circles at the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit of his.

"I see." Jake looked at Dirk thoughtfully before gingerly removing himself from Dirk's lap. "What do you do for a living?"

"Internet jobs. Things here and there. What do you do?"

“I’m a lawyer.”

**Dave**

Dave woke up to the sound of a loud obnoxious chirp. The alarm that he heard wasn't the same one that woke him up every morning, and it took him a moment or two to fully recollect the memories from the night before. He remembered his brother kicking him out, running into John at the park, John's story about his cousin, showing John his eyes... Dave cursed himself. He took a deep breath in, noting the slight tightening that he felt as his lungs filled. Dave had pretty bad asthma, and he had struggled with it ever since he was a kid. He had figured that it was the constant second hand smoke that he was surrounded with throughout his life, but when he saw a pediatrician, they told him that it was another genetic issue.

Dave had trouble with his asthma any time he slept somewhere new, which was pretty much never. A lot of the time, people didn't vent their rooms as well as Dave did. He had an AC unit constantly pushing the stale air out of his bedroom at the apartment, but in John's room, they were totally trapped in a bubble of dusty air. Dave let out a small wheezy cough and then looked over at the boy asleep next to him.

John slept on his back, one of his arms resting by his head while the other lay awkwardly twisted at his side. He was about to wake the adorable boy when he noticed -- holy fuck. Holy. Fucking. Shit. God. Fucking. Dammit.

Dave was absolutely floored. He must have not noticed it immediately, but when he did, he started coughing. His coughs were loud and painful, but still wheezy enough that John didn't wake up.

The thing that had shocked Dave so badly was the massive boner that sat between Egbert's legs. Dave's gay little heart caused his entire body to seize. Not only was John's dick blatantly hard -- definitely because it was the morning and that happens with guys -- but it was also impressively large. The tent that the blankets created around it showed Dave exactly how long his friend's dick was. Dave didn't know what to do. The shock-triggered coughs didn't stop and Dave started to worry that the combination of the dusty room with the absolute shock he felt at seeing his crush's boner, was causing him to have an asthma attack.

Dave's eyes widened, realizing that the coughs weren't stopping any time soon. He then did the only thing he could think to do in that situation. He shook his friend awake. John awoke with a start, immediately launching into a sitting position. He looked at Dave worriedly and then down at the thing between his legs.

"AH!" John exclaimed, his hands immediately covering his morning wood. Dave waved his hands to get Johns attention and then pointed at his chest as he continued to cough. John gave him a look of pure terror. "Oh my god. Are you okay?" Dave tried to answer, but the coughing wouldn't allow any words to escape his mouth. John looked back and forth between his boner and his friend in panic. "Dave, are you having an asthma attack?" Dave nodded. "Do you have your inhaler?" Dave shook his head. John launched himself out of bed, his penis bobbing, but not reducing itself at all. He ran to the drawer across the room and quickly pulled a pair of pants out. He changed into them, stopping at the zipper. He couldn't get it up around his dick. "FUCK." He exclaimed, facing Dave panicked again. So much of Dave wanted to laugh at the situation, and make fun of John's ridiculous state, but the threat of an asthma attack kept his grin at bay.

Dave was glad that the coughing kept his dick from reciprocating too. If he had woken to a horny John in any other situation, he knew that his dick would have definitely sprung into action. As John stood there, his tented underwear sticking out of his jeans as he stared down at it in horror, Dave continued to cough dangerously. His arm stayed by his mouth so he could avoid getting his gross germs anywhere. It was also just common courtesy.

"DAVE." John shouted. "What the fuck do I do?" Dave froze, realizing that he actually didn't know what to do. He knew it was an emergency, but so much of him didn't want to go home to retrieve his only inhaler. As John stared at him expectantly, he went over the conversation that he and his brother had the night before. Dave thought that going to see his brother would probably make his coughing a lot worse, but he needed his inhaler and possibly his nebulizer. Dave clenched his teeth, letting the coughs exit through his nose.

"Home." Dave croaked, feeling his throat ache as it slowly got rawer. John nodded feverishly, running over to Dave's bag and pulling out a pair of pants for him. Dave pulled the pants on. _Ouch,_ he thought, _shit_. That last cough was rough. He tasted blood in his mouth, coming from his raw throat. As he followed John to the car, he felt the pain in his chest restricting in him, making his breaths even shallower. He wished he could tell John that this just happens sometimes and that it wasn't his fault. John kept giving him that look, like he felt guilty. Dave made it to the car door before his head started to hurt.

"Dave!" John's distraught shout was the last thing that Dave heard before everything went black and he fell to the ground, his head colliding with the cold concrete floor.


	10. Chapter 10 -- Inhaler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry that I haven’t posted in so long. I have been super busy and school is ending for me soon so it’s been finals crunch time. I’ll get back into the swing of things soon though! Thanks for reading!  
> I would like to formally thank everyone for all of the wonderful reviews! I am very grateful!  
> *All intellectual property belongs to Andrew Hussie*

**Dirk**

_Knock knock knock._ Dirk's head flew up and he instantly pulled himself into a sitting position. Jake stopped moving around in the kitchen and looked at the door. They made eye contact and then Dirk got to his feet again.

"Your brother?" Jake asked, eyeing the door again. _Knock knock knock knock_. Dirk's stomach dropped.

"I don't know. He has a key." Dirk clenched his teeth, moving toward the door. If it wasn't Dave, it could be anyone. He didn't need another cop in there for a noise complaint and have them find the various drug stashes around his house. Dirk watched Jake run to the opposite side of the room where Dirk's futon was and went to the bathroom to hide the bong that sat on the table. Smart.

Dirk opened the door and was met with an unfamiliar face, with... What? Dave was being cradled by the other boy, carried with a small struggle and strain from the brunette that stood at the door. Instantly Dirk pushed the door wide open, allowing the boy to carry Dave inside.

 _Oh god_ , Dirk thought. He was worried that in his anger, Dave had done something stupid. He jumped off a building or something, or got too drunk. It was about 7 in the morning, and he and Jake had just gotten out of bed after a ridiculously hot make out session. Dave was supposed to head to school. But instead, he was in the arms of another boy, totally unconscious. His shades were missing from his face. Dirk gave the blue eyed boy that held his brother a look and then took Dave into his own arms, lying him down on the futon in the living room.

"Kid." Dirk commanded. "Get me a hand mirror from the bathroom." The boy stood awkwardly, hesitating with panic in his eyes. "NOW." Dirk shouted. The boy scrambled toward the bathroom, passing Jake who was on his way out. Jake saw Dirk hunched over Dave on the couch and his eyes widened.

"Dirk, what's wrong with him?" Jake asked, running to stand behind the couch that Dave lay on.

"Asthma. Dave has asthma. Really bad asthma." Dirk made eye contact with Jake. "It's my fault."

"Asthma usually is genetic, Dirk."

"Smoking makes it worse." Dirk reached behind him and grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table, chucking it across the room. It landed in the kitchen, shattering into a million tiny fragments of ceramic. The other boy returned with a mirror, handing it swiftly to Dirk as he was taking Dave's pulse. Dirk held the mirror up to Dave's mouth, knowing that if he were breathing, it would be hard to tell without the mirror.

The moment was silent, as if everyone around them were holding their breath. There was nothing on the mirror, nothing but the reflection of Dave's nose. Suddenly, Dirk saw it. The tiniest amount of fogging appeared on the mirror, hard to spot if he hadn't done so before.

"He's breathing." Dirk informed the boys next to him. He looked up at the boy that had brought Dave in. "Where's his inhaler?"

"He said he left it here." With that information, Dirk was on his feet, running to the bathroom to the exact spot that Dave always kept his inhaler. It wasn't there.

**********

_"You've done enough. You've called my mother a whore, you've insulted me, and you don't get to do that. Make sure you know your place, shithead. Now get the fuck out of the apartment that I fucking pay for and find your own." He took his hands back and suddenly he was gone, having left the room before Dave even got a chance to catch his bearings. He gasped as his lungs filled with air, sweet, sweet air. The blood rush caused him to become dizzy, but he shook it off as he dashed to his room. He shoved whatever clothes that were in his reach into a duffle bag, making sure to get his inhaler too. And with that, he was gone, running to the only place he knew to go to._

**********

"Hey kid! Kid, what's your name?" Dirk called into the living room. The boy appeared next to him. He told Dirk that his name was John. "Yeah John. Dave's inhaler isn't here. He definitely brought it. They're expensive, he only has one. Where's his bag?"

"At my house." John said, his eyes widening.

"Fuck." Dirk gripped John's shoulder, making sure that he made eye contact with him. "John, call your parents, tell them you're not going to school today. Dave needs to go to the hospital." John's lip was trembling, but he nodded and left. Dirk heard the front door shut as John presumably went to the car where his phone was. Dirk returned to the main room and Jake stood from his job of watching Dave to meet Dirk in the middle.

"Dirk, are you alright?" Jake asked, uncurling Dirk's hands from the fists that they were making. Dirk shook his head at the beautiful man before him and clenched his teeth. Of course he wasn't okay. Dave was barely breathing and it was his fault. He knew about the dangers of secondhand smoke, or maybe it had been when he had practically choked his brother to death? Jake shook Dirk out of the stupor of self-hate that he had lost himself in. "Hey, Dave is in a lot of danger right now and you need to keep your head on dandy and help him, okay?"

"I'll call you." Dirk said, not looking at Jake. He could see Jake's sad smile from his peripheral vision. Jake dropped Dirk's hands, and Dirk watched him walk to the door. He knew it wasn't Jake's place but part of Dirk really needed someone to hold his hand through this. He couldn't even remember the last time Dave had an asthma attack. It was strange how the boy he had met yesterday was suddenly such a security net for him.

John reentered as Jake was leaving, his eyes immediately set on Dave on the couch.

"We can take my car." He offered. Dirk nodded. There wasn't anywhere in his truck for Dave to lie down, so he was thankful that John was here. He didn't know how John knew his brother, but he was glad Dave wasn't alone last night. Dirk went over to the couch to pick Dave up and began carrying him to the lot. John followed him, not walking next to him but not straying too far. As John unlocked his car and got the backseat ready for Dave, Dirk looked down at the boy he held in his arms. Dave looked so young, and even seeing him without his sunglasses was weird. He hadn't seen Dave without his shades in years.

Dave's lips were slightly parted; whatever air that was entering through them was invisible. His chest didn't rise and fall. His pale eyelids were thin, and Dirk could see every vein underneath. His brother was so fair, even the scatter of freckles across his cheeks looked pale in comparison. John gave Dirk the okay to go ahead and put Dave down, but Dirk suddenly felt overprotective. He instead sat himself down in the backseat, Dave draped across his lap still. Dirks long legs pressed against the passenger seat as he cradled his precious brother. John got into the car and started it, following Dirk's directions to the hospital.

Dirk couldn't keep himself from running his hands through Dave's fair hair, and he kept his legs from falling off the seat. Dirk may have been taller than him, but Dave wasn't small and it was a bit of a challenge fitting the both of them in the backseat. John drove quickly and with an air of uncertainly, like he usually didn't use his car that way. Dirk reminded him a few times that they had to get there quickly, and John would speed up willingly. As they pulled up to the hospital and Dirk started to get Dave out of the car, Dave let out a little cough, and started gasping for air. Dirk muttered a curse and used all of his strength to swing Dave into his arms, carrying him through the emergency room doors.

**Dave**

All Dave could hear when he woke up was a faint beeping and a mechanical whooshing. When his eyes opened, he was met with a harsh bright light that made him cringe. He tried to reach to where his shades usually sat on his bedside table while he slept, but he was caught by something stuck in his arm. Suddenly there was a hand on his arm, keeping it down. He felt his shades slide onto his face and then allowed his eyes to open.

It was Dirk holding his arm down, looking back at him with worried eyes. For once in his life, his brother didn't smell like cigarette smoke and alcohol, he just smelled like... Dirk. It was a comforting scent, and it reminded him of all the days that his brother used to be his protector against the scary things his mom did. He remembered when Dirk and he used to share a room, and on some of the nights that Dave could hear the thumping noises, he would crawl into Dirk's bottom bunk bed, curling up against the warmth of his big bro.

Now Dave sat in a hospital bed, the same kind that he saw his mother in before she passed away. Dave wanted to start hyperventilating or something but there was a medical mask placed over his mouth and nose, forcing slightly warm and medically scented air into his mouth and nose. He knew what was happening, he was under a nebulizer. Dave had used one of these before, when he was a little kid and his asthma was really bad. He would sit on the couch as Dirk set it up, pouring the liquid medicine into the little vessel before connecting it to the loud machine. Dave would sit with the mask wrapped around the back of his head and then Dirk would read to him, flipping through the pictures in a book and reading loud enough that he could hear over the sounds of the machine.

The memory hurt Dave as he looked at his brother, remembering how he used to care for him. Dirk must have sensed something, because he sat back down in the seat to the left of Dave's hospital bed. Dave looked the other way and saw John sitting on his other side, a textbook open as he scribbled in a notebook on his lap.

"Hey Egbert." Dave rasped, surprised to see him there. John's eyes flew up and he grinned, revealing the buckteeth. Dave's heartbeat increased a little at the smile and his eyes widened as he realized that everyone could hear his heartbeat in the beeping of the monitor. He felt warmth rise to his cheeks. Thankfully, neither Dirk nor John thought his heartbeat increased because of attraction, but instead they gave him worried looks. "What happened?" Dave said, his voice sounding foggy through the mask. Dave's throat was raw and sore and protested when he tried to talk.

"Try not to talk." Dirk said, going to a standing position. "You had an asthma attack. You also, did pack your inhaler. Idiot." Dirk reached into a bag that sat on the ground and flicked it over to Dave. Dave would have caught it, but he ended up almost causing the IV next to him to fall over as he situated himself to catch. When he reached up, his arm pulled it closer to him, causing a little bit of pain to Dave as the port where the needle sat moved. "Sorry, lil' man." Dirk said, taking the inhaler off Dave's lap and placing it directly in his hand. Dave smiled, leaning his head back. To avoid talking Dave pointed at the IV in his arm, trying to get someone to tell him what it was.

"Oh!" John was the one to respond. "Its steroids or something. It's supposed to keep your lungs open." John was looking at him with panicked blue eyes, showing the genuine worry that he felt. John looked like he had been through a lot. His dark brown hair was tousled and dirty, his eyes were bloodshot. He was wearing his pajama shirt still, along with those jeans.

Dirk, of course, looked untouched by the whole event. He had either taken the time to get dressed and gel his hair before going to the hospital, that or he was up beforehand. Dirk held a cup of coffee in a Styrofoam travel mug. Dave internally cringed at the thought of hospital coffee.

The room he sat in was small and clearly meant for children. There was an animal themed decal that ran around the room, halfway up the wall. The hospital bed sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by equipment and monitors. The heart monitor was connected to cables stuck to his chest. To his left was a large window, providing ample light and blinding Dave. Dirk sat on a chair to Dave's left, near the window, while John sat near the door on the other side. There was a TV mounted on the wall in front of him, but whatever was on was muted.

"I'm going to go find the doctor and tell him that you're awake." Dirk said, standing. He exited the room, closing the previously open door behind him. _Ah_. He was giving them time alone. As soon as the door closed, John jumped to his feet, running to hug Dave. He squeezed Dave a little bit too tight, hurting his weak lungs, but Dave didn't dare say a word.

"What's up Egbert, why are you still here?" Dave asked as soon as John had let go.

"I was worried about you, Dave!" John exclaimed, giving him an incredulous look. Suddenly, John's expression went cold and he looked down. "Do you uh... Want... To..." Dave was hanging on to his every word. "Talk about this morning?" The last bit left John's lips all at once.

"Nope."


End file.
